


Remedial Jedi Theology

by MarbleGlove



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: (except Palpatine), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Fictional Religion & Theology, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 51,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarbleGlove/pseuds/MarbleGlove
Summary: Let us consider the fact that the Jedi Order is a monastic religious organization based out of a temple, with five basic tenets of faith.Ch 1: Death, yet the Force (meeting Anakin)Ch 2: Chaos, yet Harmony (teaching Anakin)Ch 3: Passion, yet Serenity (teaching a teenaged Anakin, good grief)Ch 4: Ignorance, yet Knowledge (Anakin is a Knight now, why is he still Obi-Wan’s problem?)Ch 5: Heresy, yet Orthodoxy (actual plot? Ie, Clones and Sith)Ch 6: Emotion, yet Peace (epilog)Ch 7: extras / deleted scenes





	1. Death, yet the Force

**Author's Note:**

> I had to remind myself many times in the writing of this that I write because I have an idea I want to work out, rather than because I want a lot of kudos. (note: I still want a lot of kudos and reviews.) So this is so far into self-indulgence that I can barely see other potential readers. But if you do manage to stumble across this, I hope you enjoy my meandering analysis of Jedi theology. 
> 
> Also: thanks to my wonderful beta and sister for agreeing to go through this and fix all my mixed-up tenses and run-on sentences. Any remaining issues are my own silly fault.

“Train the boy,” Qui-Gon said with his last breath. “He must be trained.”

“I will see it done, Master,” Obi-Wan swore, even as he grieved. And, more to the point, even as he thought, _this is going to be a cluster fuck._

There is no death, there is the Force, was one of the primary Jedi testaments and Qui-Gon certainly seemed determined to fulfill it with his dying wish.

Once a being has existed they can never truly be gone, for the Force connects all living things through both space and time. And while Qui-Gon himself had been an expert in the living Force that spread through space, Obi-Wan was most comfortable with the unifying Force that spread through time.

Even as Qui-Gon died, Obi-Wan could see his presence stretching for years and centuries into the future, evident in all his accomplishments and all the things he had set in motion. The societies and futures of hundreds of planets bore the imprint of Qui-Gon’s life, and so too did Obi-Wan’s own life.

There could be no death, for Qui-Gon had lived within the Force and always would. His effect would continue to grow like ripples in a pond. That effect would only be greater still when Obi-Wan followed through on his word to his dying master, to see to the training of a boy already rejected by the Jedi Council and so dangerous in Obi-Wan’s own senses.

But he had given his word. Qui-Gon Jinn had been a great master with unparalleled sense of the living Force. Obi-Wan would trust in him and abide.

His report to the Council was even more unpleasant than the previous one had been, when Qui-Gon recommended Obi-Wan for his knight trials in a blatant move to free himself to take Anakin as his padawan. The Council had been disapproving of Qui-Gon and pitying of Obi-Wan, neither of which Obi-Wan appreciated.

Obi-Wan had only been offended by Qui-Gon’s lack of tact in his abrupt replacement, not the act itself.

It had been years since Obi-Wan had forced his way into a padawanship with Master Qui-Gon Jinn. They hadn't been a great match, but Qui-Gon had been Obi-Wan's last hope to become a Jedi and he had done everything he could to coerce it. He had known that he had not been chosen as a padawan in any meaningful sense of the word, so it had been jarring to see Qui-Gon actively choose a padawan, but not betraying. He hadn't previously considered the possibility, but he was grateful that Qui-Gon found his new padawan only after Obi-Wan was old enough to be knighted.

He wondered if that was why Anakin was so much older. The Force had always told Obi-Wan that he was destined to be a Jedi Knight. Had it delayed Anakin's discovery to ensure that Obi-Wan had enough time with Qui-Gon to make his trials?

He had released his gratitude and his shame into the Force.

Love is a gift, not an earned reward, Obi-Wan knew. He knew this because he knew that the Force loved him and that there was nothing he had done or could ever possibly do to earn it. But it loved him and he loved it right back.

From the looks on some of the Councilor's faces at Qui-Gon's dismissal of him, they thought he should have felt betrayed. Betrayed and abandoned. But Obi-Wan knew what he had done when he had coerced Qui-Gon into taking him on in the first place. Obi-Wan had wanted to become a Jedi even if it meant that he would be scraping by with the bare minimum of training and the bare minimum of natural affinity as well. But he was a Jedi. If he trusted in the Force, it would lead him well. And it had led him well.

He had even been looking forward to starting his life as a Jedi Knight, without the constant struggle of working in tandem with a master who felt the will of the Force so differently from how Obi-Wan himself felt it. It was tough being pulled in two directions: by the will of the Force speaking to him directly of a dark future and the direction of his master who told him to focus on the present always. The present was important, but the future… oh, the future how it pulled at him.

He had known that he would pass his trials and he would take missions and he would do what needed doing.

He had bowed to the Councilors and confirmed that of course he was ready for the trials.

If he was young for the trials, he was not too young, just as Anakin was old but not too old, whatever the Council might say. The Force provided balance.

That Council meeting had essentially been like any other. For all that it had circled around Obi-Wan’s status, it had mostly been the another instance of the ongoing struggle between Qui-Gon and the Council.

This Council meeting, though, to report Qui-Gon’s death and his own oath to see Anakin trained, was much more difficult.

Jedi gave themselves to the Force, trained their sensitivity to the will of the Force such that they could act as its manifest will. The death of a Jedi should always be grieved as the loss of such a manifestation, but never grieved for the loss of a person. For that person lived well and gave themselves to the Force and was taken back by the Force.

The Force was not exactly sentient, but it loved and it desired and it had method. It loved the Jedi, it desired to promote life, and like water in a river bed, it found the easiest and most direct method to get to what it desired.

Obi-Wan wasn’t angry at Qui-Gon for trying to replace him with Anakin. He was, however, angry with Qui-Gon for leaving him to deal with Anakin on his own.

The Council had asked him about the prophecy and Obi-Wan, who liked having order, liked being part of the Order and the direction it gave to his life when the will of the Force felt too large, its demands too amorphous, had had to declare his own philosophy before the masters’ impassive faces.

“There are those who fear balance in the Force because they think the light has held supremacy for so long, that it must be time for the dark to be supreme,” he had started carefully, knowing that at least some of the Council members likely believed that. “I think all of those beings throughout the galaxy suffering from famines and plagues and natural disasters, much less those suffering from slavery and repression, would disagree that the light is currently held supreme.”

“Think you, more light we must give, then, balance to have?” Master Yoda asked.

Obi-Wan really didn’t want to have this conversation. He wasn’t ready to have this conversation. What balance could there be between the light and the dark that he would ever find acceptable to promote? And wasn’t the universality of mortality balance enough? All beings lived and all beings died. Was that not balance enough?

Rather than voice that thought, he tucked it away in a corner of his mind to be available should he ever need to stall any discussion with a massive philosophical debate. Right now he didn’t want to extend this conversation indefinitely, he wanted to get it done with.

“Since all we have is the half-destroyed journal of an ancient prophet saying ‘a child will be born from the Force and will bring balance to it’ I’m inclined to think it will happen on it’s own or not, and we don’t need to concern ourselves with it.”

And by _inclined to think_ , he meant _really hoping against hope that this is true_ ; that it would be safe to ignore both the prophecy and his own sense of impending danger in order to focus on the here and now. He had either successfully blocked that level of thought from the Council or they agreed with him, because eventually Yoda nodded.

“Wise that is. The future in motion, always is.”

The Jedi Council gave their agreement to Obi-Wan taking Anakin as his padawan.

Obi-Wan wondered if he should be grateful for that.

He wasn’t.

He had expected that his offer to take Anakin himself would inspire the council to back down and assign the boy to someone more appropriate. Someone with at least a higher midichlorian count, since Obi-Wan’s own count was perhaps half of Anakin’s.

Releasing his anger to the Force was something he always needed to work on and this was no different. He was following the path laid out to him in the Force to the best of his abilities, and the Jedi Council seemed to go out of their way to make it more difficult, sometimes through obstruction but other times through supposed support.

When Qui-Gon had demanded that Anakin be trained, the Council had refused to grant the student to one of their most respected Jedi Masters. But after that Master’s death, the Jedi Council granted permission for the single most recent Jedi Knight, who hadn’t even passed the formal test for that status, to train the boy…

It felt like being set up to fail.

The most basic tenets of Jedi philosophy and mental control were taught practically from birth to the members of the crèche. When you will be taught mental abilities to manipulate matter and energy, it was vitally important that you learn control over your own mind first.

Just as teaching the use of a blaster consisted first of how to disarm one and carry it safely, the lessons for a padawan assumed they already knew how to disarm any anger or frustration in their own minds.

As a slave, Anakin was probably used to thinking of his mind as the one place he was free to do as he liked. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how Qui-Gon had ever expected to make Anakin understand that he would need to be his own master when it came to his very thoughts and feelings, cultivating them like a particularly ruthless gardener, pulling weeds and trimming excessive growth.

For the most part, these skills were less a matter of teaching than of instilling at formation in the crèche. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure there were any Jedi currently alive who had a method for teaching those abilities. Luckily the Jedi were an ancient Order and there was almost always some precedent hidden somewhere in its thousands of years of history.

Historically, before the temple was first established on Coruscant, the Jedi had only accepted adult students. Force-sensitive individuals worked years or decades to learn that control on their own before ever being allowed in as a student of the greater skills in Force manipulation.

Anakin wasn’t an adult, though, anymore than he was an infant. Obi-Wan’s new student was years past infancy and yet years too early for adult comprehension and self-knowledge.

Walking away from the Council room with his newly approved padawan beside him, he considered how best to approach this.

“Tell me, Anakin, do you understand the difference between you calling Watto ‘master’ and me calling Qui-Gon Jinn ‘master’?”

Anakin looked suspicious, like he thought it was a trick question, which was not a particularly encouraging reaction. “Why?”

“Can I take that as a ‘no’?”

“No! I know the difference! Qui-Gon was good and wanted to help me!”

“Yes, he was and yes, he did. But I need to know whether to explain what 'master' means in different contexts.”

“What does that even mean! Master means Master!”

“Not really. You speak several languages and know how slang is often used in slave quarters to ensure that the slave masters don’t understand them. Some words mean different things. Master is one of them.”

“Oh.” Anakin mulled that over. “So what does it mean here, then?”

“A Jedi Master is someone who has mastered the Jedi Arts. It’s a sign of respect and an acknowledgement of their knowledge and abilities. It is not, in and of itself, a sign of any authority.”

Anakin looked confused.

“I don’t actually have to obey someone just because I call them ‘master’.” Obi-Wan clarified. And over-simplified. Hopefully none of the Jedi Masters were listening in right then.

“Oh.” Anakin’s eyes were large at that thought.

“I am guided by their knowledge and try to learn from their examples, but that’s different.”

“Huh.” Anakin was back to looking suspicious.

Obi-Wan sighed and tried to think of another way to explain it.

“I call them ‘master’ in the same way I might call you ‘Podracer Skywalker’. If I was podracing, I would then defer to your direction because I trusted that you knew more about it than I do, not because you could order me to do anything. They understand the Force better than I do, so I defer to them.”

“Huh.” Anakin said again, but more accepting. “I guess that makes sense?”

Obi-Wan breathed a faint sigh of relief. Maybe he’d be able to get through this relatively well? They arrived at their quarters at the temple, which were really Qui-Gon’s quarters. Obi-Wan took a moment to focus on his breathing and keeping it calm and steady. They would need to reorganize the rooms as Obi-Wan moved into Qui-Gon’s and Anakin moved into the padawan attachment.

It was reassuring to have a plan of action. To have something to do rather than to just think about either the past or the present. He could get their physical situation dealt with before dealing further with his new padawan.

“But,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan tried not to slump. “You called him _your_ master.”

Or maybe he would focus on his new padawan immediately and without pause. “Yes, I did. I called him master, because he had mastered the Jedi Arts. He was _my_ master, because he had agreed to teach those arts to me.”

“Oh, so he was _your_ teacher and _a_ master. And I guess it’s just shorter to say your master if everyone knows what that actually means.”

“Exactly.” He smiled with some relief.

“I guess I can call you my master then.”

Obi-Wan wanted to die. There was no way he had any sort of mastery at this point, and that title would ring false in the Force.

“Why don’t you call me your teacher instead?”

“Won’t that be disrespectful, though?”

It was probably disrespectful to teachers across the galaxy, frankly, to lump Obi-Wan among them, but less so than calling him a Jedi Master when he was barely even a Knight. Rather than explain that set of complexities, Obi-Wan stuck to simply saying, “No, ‘teacher’ is perfectly respectful.”

“Okay…” Anakin sounded just as dubious as Obi-Wan felt.

“Or maybe you’d prefer Tani? It means teacher, but in archaic Aurabesh and that can make it sound more official. It’s actually the word that matches Padawan, meaning student. Tani fell out of use while Padawan carried over to modern Basic.”

“Okay, Tani Kenobi!” Anakin sounded pleased with that, and Obi-Wan settled for getting some odd looks on the temple grounds from the other Jedi once they noticed. “Can I learn that language, the archaic, aura-something?”

“That is an excellent idea, Padawan Skywalker. Modern Aurabesh was actually the foundation of Modern Basic so it should be relatively easy for you to learn. Studying archaic Aurabesh can also introduce you to the Jedi Code, since the original version is in that language.”

Before Anakin volunteered to start immediately, Obi-Wan continued, “But for now, we’ll get settled in for the night and you can get a good night’s sleep.”

“Okay!”

Obi-Wan counted himself lucky that Anakin did get a good night’s sleep because it meant that Obi-Wan had eight uninterrupted hours to figure out what they were going to do the following day, grab a quick nap, and then plan some more.

He had always been told that teachers learned more from their students than students from their teachers, and it had certainly seemed evident in those classes he'd taught in the creche as a senior padawan. But this, having his own padawan, was possibly going to kill him.

He not only needed to teach Anakin, he needed to figure out _what_ to teach him.

Well, Obi-Wan thought, I’ve been set up to fail both myself and this child, but if I am to do so, I will do so with everything I have. This will be a mission like any others, to go into a situation with incomplete knowledge and the high likelihood of explosions and find the right way to create a beneficial outcome for everyone. There had been, after all, a handful of Jedi in the early days of the temple who arrived still needing to learn even rudimentary self-control at the temple.

Over the next week Anakin took a variety of placement tests for his registration into various of the padawan classes. This had involved another preliminary talk just to ensure Anakin understood what those were.

“There are going to be a lot of tests with many different people on many different topics. It won’t be fun, but just do your best and know that there is no such thing as failing a placement test.”

“What if I’m the first one ever to fail?”

“The only way for these test to be failed is for the instructors to fail to assess you. The intent is to judge the extent of your knowledge and understanding. No one knows everything. So the instructors must figure out how much you know, so that we know what to teach you. Their goal is to find out what you don’t know.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“It will be draining and can be discouraging as they search for what you don’t know, but I want you to know that you cannot fail these tests. You are already a padawan.”

“Okay.” Anakin looked uncertain, but Obi-Wan left it at that.

While Anakin was being grilled on everything and anything, Obi-Wan registered himself as a mastery student for the basics of mind control. He had once seen it mentioned as a holocrom course made available to interested Jedi knights, of whom there were almost none.

It was the equivalent of taking a mathematics class in why one plus one equals two. Sane people just learned it and moved on. Insane people tried to figure the first principles underlying basic arithmetic. Obi-Wan was about to join their number.

He had to figure out how to explain meditation techniques, both simple and advanced, to a child well-equipped with questions, who already had years of using the Force, for podracing at the very least, and likely had a variety of bad habits to discover and change.

Most skills were taught by starting with the easy stuff and advancing progressively harder. Obi-Wan realized he was going to have to focus on skills that weren’t necessarily the easiest to accomplish but the easiest to explain. Which left him throwing both Anakin and himself into the deep end with meditation skills.

He waited for an evening when Anakin came back from his latest batch of tests not completely exhausted, which was sadly only three days later. Free-time was not something that the Jedi temple promoted, given the type of chaos younglings and young padawans with Force abilities could cause. Obi-Wan was fairly sure the Council included knights and most masters among the people who needed to be kept busy for the good of the galaxy as well.

“While you are testing and eventually taking classes during the day, we’ll start studying healing meditations in the evening.”

“Why? I’m really healthy.” Anakin sounded defensive.

“Yes, you are,” Obi-Wan agreed. Slaves on Tatooine tended to go between really healthy and really dead without much time in between. “But healing meditations let you observe your own body and fix it when it’s hurt, and that includes finding and removing foreign objects.”

Anakin’s eyes went wide. “You mean the explosive. I could get rid of it?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t the healers just take it out? The stories say that if escaped slaves get to the core planets with their controllers, the healers can remove the explosives. Did all the escaped slaves really die?” Anakin was working himself up into a panic. Obi-Wan was both impressed with how quick Anakin was, going from Obi-Wan’s description of healing meditations to the implications for escaped slaves, and horrified at what this spoke of their future interactions. It seemed unlikely that Obi-Wan would ever be able to fully control a conversation with him.

“Healers can remove the devices quickly and easily. If you want, we can go to the Healers right now and get the explosives removed within the next hour.”

“Then I want to get rid of it right now!”

“If that’s what you want, then we can certainly do that,” but Obi-Wan didn’t actually move towards the door. If Anakin could make inferences easily, then Obi-Wan would nurture that skill.

Anakin looked at him funny. “Why don’t you think I should do that?”

“If we go to the Healers right now, you’ll be sedated and the explosives will be removed. You’ll wake up with a bandage on a small wound that will leave no scar. You won’t feel a thing. In a week you’ll barely remember it happened.”

Obi-Wan had helped free slaves before. He was thankful he had never been called to be part of the mind healing corps who continued to provide assistance to the freed slaves. It was hard enough to free their bodies. Freeing them in their own minds was more difficult than he could imagine.

Although perhaps he shouldn’t be thanking the Force too quickly for that, since here he was, trying to deal with the mental and emotional fallout of a freed slave.

“It won’t feel real if the healers do it.” Anakin said slowly.

Obi-Wan remained quiet, letting Anakin continue to think it through.

“If I do it myself, even if it takes longer, I’ll know it’s out.” He was still mulling it over. “It’s like building my own droids. If I build it myself I know how it works and how to fix it when it breaks.”

Anakin finally nodded decisively. “Yes, I want to learn how to get rid of it myself.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Excellent.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he should be ashamed of using an implanted slave explosive as a motivator for learning meditation. He just appreciated that, between healing meditation and the Jedi code in the original language, he had a solid, and potentially exhausting, plan of study for Anakin, for the time being, at least. He had time to figure out a more long-term plan for Anakin’s education.

Studying meditation, language, and theology-by-way-of-language was a good solid start but every time Obi-Wan thought he had settled on an educational plan, he realized he’d overlooked some other fundamental issue.

The temple tested Anakin’s knowledge of Galactic and planetary histories, his understanding of political methods and governmental structures, his engineering abilities and his language skills. Obi-Wan tried to double-check that Anakin even knew what a Jedi was.

He waited until after the placement tests were completed but before the results were compiled to schedule a day for them to talk about Anakin’s future. They went to one of the meditation groves that they’d used before, where Anakin had made amazing strides in his healing abilities, enough to identify foreign objects in his body. He was well on his way to performing a full check-up on his own health status. He was able to monitor the explosive device at this point. He still had a lot further to go before safely disintegrating it and flushing it out of his own system, but he was working hard on it. At this point, if the healers were to remove it, Anakin would at least be able to confirm its absence.

It was nowhere near where he would need to be, to fully master the meditation technique, but it was more than any non-Jedi.

So much had happened in the last two weeks and Obi-Wan had spent much of it trying to map out a path through the next few years that avoided the doom he still felt swirling through the Force. Qui-Gon had regularly chastised Obi-Wan for being too focused on the future to see the present. So this day would be a chance for both him and Anakin to pause and take a look at the present, and confirm which way the future should go before they were irrevocably set on one path.

“I need you to understand,” Obi-Wan started, “that the Jedi are a religious order. The religion does not have priests or hold public prayers, but the Jedi Order is the official religion of the Republic. We fulfill our mission and support ourselves by providing services to individuals and governments, but ultimately we are a religious order.”

“Huh,” Anakin said. “I guess I sort of knew that? I mean, the Jedi always do good and have amazing powers, so it makes sense that it’s a religion.”

Obi-Wan winced internally. This was the new recruit to the Jedi Order, who ‘guessed’ that it ‘made sense’ for the Jedi Order to be a religious order. He hoped he hid the wince. In any other situation, Obi-Wan would have said that simple lack of knowledge precluded any ability to consent to joining an organization. Admittedly most initiates lacked knowledge of the Order, but that was because they arrived as infants. By the time they were chosen as padawans, they knew a great deal. Anakin was skipping a lot of steps here and in this particular situation, it was Obi-Wan’s task to fill in for that lack. He tried to speak gently, “Don’t let the jobs we do, or the training we receive in order to perform those jobs, distract from the fact that this is a religion. You can receive similar training and perform similar jobs without being part of the religion.”

“You said I couldn’t fail the placement tests!”

“You can’t and you didn’t. I haven’t actually seen the results yet, but I’ll be placing you in classes tomorrow. If you still want to be. But I need to confirm that you still want to be. Because the results of those placement tests could just as easily place you in any number of other career paths.” Obi-Wan kept his voice calm and collected and wondered if this was how all of his own teachers had once felt at his own outbursts. Anakin seriously needed to just calm down.

“No, I'm a Jedi! I know I am!”

"We all interact with the Force in different ways. If you say you are a Jedi, then I must accept your knowledge of yourself." Obi-Wan was just really dubious that a young ex-slave child would seriously want to join a monastic order such as this.

“I want to be a Jedi! I know I can be a great Jedi!”

Of course, who was he to doubt? After all, most masters had thought an angry child like Obi-Wan had been had no place in such a religious order either.

Although it was honestly a bit disturbing, Obi-Wan thought, for a sentient being with any emotional attachments to want to join the Order. There was a reason why the Jedi trained up from infancy to avoid attachments. It was one thing to avoid them, it was quite another to sever existent ones.

“You could also be a great engineer, a great senator, a great pilot.”

“You think I’m dangerous.” Anakin threw the words out like a weapon.

Obi-Wan had spent his life training to negotiate ceasefires and trade deals between mortal enemies. He was used to wading through the complex politics of conflict around the galaxy and even within the Jedi Council itself. Anakin’s attempt to trip him up with words and insight was oddly adorable. Rather than smile fatuously, Obi-Wan kept his face calm and his voice serious, “It is always dangerous to train a Jedi.”

“But you think I’m too dangerous to train.”

“Master Qui-Gon Jinn told me that I was too dangerous to train, too.”

“Really?” Anakin was surprised out of his distress. He was ridiculously easy to distract.

“Really. You can ask around if you like. It was all a bit of a scandal at the time, because I was technically expelled from the Order before he changed his mind.”

And frankly _changed his mind_ was overstating the issue. More accurately, Qui-Gon got coerced into changing his decision. But Obi-Wan was more than willing to take what he could get, both then and now. And since Qui-Gon had used his last breath to ask Obi-Wan to act as a Jedi Master, he took that as tacit endorsement of him being at least somewhat competent, even if he was the only option available.

Being the worst and the slowest in a group made up of the best and brightest is still an accomplishment. It was an accomplishment that Obi-Wan was proud of.

But he brought the discussion back on topic. “Anakin, why do you want to be a Jedi?”

“Because they save people!”

“A lot of jobs save people. Queen Amidala saves people. Healers save people. Engineers save people. Why the Jedi?”

Anakin frowned in concentration. “They all, they all can save people, but it’s smaller. The Jedi come in and change whole worlds.”

The problem with that answer was that it wasn’t actually wrong. Obi-Wan had expected Anakin to be wrong. Even though he was fairly sure Anakin didn’t understand the full import of what he was saying, what he was saying was still absolutely correct. “Yes, the Jedi do tend to change things on a larger scale than most people can. One of the primary uses of the Force is to position ourselves in times and places where a single person can effect massive change.”

“Exactly!”

“But we’re also a religious order. A monastic religious order, in fact. We’re monks with a religion based around belief in the Force.”

“Yeah?”

“There are some places that separate the two aspects: the abilities that draw you to be a Jedi and the faith, but this is not that place.”

“Okay.” Anakin shrugged, like it didn’t matter.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how blunt he needed to be here, but apparently it was more than he’d been so far. “We follow the will of the Force. Sometimes that means saving people. Sometimes it means walking away. What you consider to be the right thing to do will not always be what the Force thinks is the right thing to do. As a Jedi, you must follow the will of the Force.”

“But the Force wants us to do what is right.” Anakin spoke with the faith of a child. Obi-Wan felt a surge of respect for Shmi Skywalker’s apparent ability to protect her son from the harsher realities of making hard choices. He was less happy with now having to introduce Anakin to those harsher realities himself.

“You should consider if you would prefer to be settled onto Naboo as a citizen there. I know Queen Amidala would love to have you. She and Senator Palpatine could provide a variety of options for you that don’t involve joining an ascetic monastic order.”

Anakin looked suspicious. “You’re trying to get rid of me.”

“No. I’m trying to make sure you have options.”

“I want to be a Jedi.”

“You also want to be free.”

“I am free! Qui-Gon freed me!”

“You know how I explained that slave masters are different from Jedi masters?”

“Yeah. Slave masters tell me what to do but Jedi masters are masters of themselves.”

“Well, Jedi masters are still going to tell you what to do. And even more than slave masters, we are going to tell you what and how to think,” Obi-Wan finally stated bluntly. “Force manipulation is about mental control, and we will be teaching you that control and demanding it off you. As a Jedi, you will live simply, not own anything personal, and obey a set of rules that few free beings do.”

Anakin’s eyes got bigger and bigger. “You _are_ a slave, then!”

“The difference,” Obi-Wan explained with as much patience as he could, “is in the choice.”

“What does that even _mean_?”

“You like building droids, right? You do it for fun, because you want to. It’s a choice you have made. But if Watto told you to build a droid for his shop, he’d be ordering you to do so. You would have had to do it, even if you didn’t want to. Did he ever order you to do something that you would have done anyway?”

“Uh… sometimes, maybe?”

“Being the one to choose makes a big difference, doesn’t it? Even if the thing you’re doing is the same.”

“Uh, I guess?”

Obi-Wan took that for a big old “no”, but he also wasn’t sure how else to explain consent to a nine-year-old ex-slave. Sex often made the best example of the difference between choice and no-choice, but nine was a bit young for that… hopefully. On one hand, he’d been a slave. On the other hand, his mother had apparently convinced Anakin and everyone around him that Anakin had been a virgin birth. 

Obi-Wan rather thought she must have amazing Force abilities herself to have so readily convinced Master Qui-Gon Jinn of that bit of history. He wished he’d had a chance to meet her.

Lost opportunities were nothing to dwell upon though. There were always more things to accomplish than there was time and energy to accomplish them with. One must always move forward.

He released his disappointment at not meeting Shmi Skywalker and focused instead on Anakin Skywalker.

“I can register you for padawan classes tomorrow, and you’ll start training with the rest of the padawans as well as continue to study with me, and go on missions with me, but before any of that happens, I need you to consent.”

“I want this.”

“I need you to know that I’ll be giving you orders and the other masters of the temple will be giving you orders. As a member of the Jedi Order, you’ll live under more constraints than even most slaves do, although they are very different types of constraints.”

Anakin finally looked daunted enough that Obi-Wan could hope that he understood.

“Freedom isn’t about getting to do everything you want; it’s about being responsible for everything you do, and being responsible for the results of what you do as well. As a free person, you get to choose, but you also have to be responsible for your choices. Joining the Jedi Order, especially at your age is going to be difficult. Being a Jedi Knight or Jedi Master is both difficult and dangerous. All Jedi have chosen to do that difficult work and take those dangerous risks. I need you to know that you don’t have to. You have a choice, and you do not have to choose to be a Jedi. But if you do choose to be a Jedi, then we both have to know that it is a choice you have freely made.”

Anakin listened intently and then they both sat in silence for a few minutes. It reassured Obi-Wan. Anakin spoke seriously when he finally spoke. “I choose to be a Jedi.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”


	2. Chaos, yet Harmony

 

Obi-Wan had spent the last week reviewing every curriculum taught in the creche, every basic class, every elective, every suggested career track... and there just weren't that many. No more than fifty. And based on his placement test results, Anakin would need remedial lessons in all of the subjects that he hadn’t tested out of completely.

As a slave, Anakin had likely never been granted any of the benefits of childhood, but on the flipside, he been treated as a self-sufficient adult for most of his young life. Obi-Wan pictured putting him in a classroom of protected babies, and telling him that he knew less than them.

Anakin was a sweet child, but that was just asking for trouble. 

Okay. This would take some creativity. But that's what being a negotiator was all about, finding creative solutions to problems that others had deemed irrevocable.

So, he would break out the subjects. And the electives. Balance the lessons. For every remedial class, Obi-Wan would arrange for him to be in an advanced class as well. While there were universal requirements for all Jedi Knights, there was also some flexibility to allow for specialization.

Anakin had different skills than the children in the creche, but was no less intelligent than them. So figure out what his skills were, where he was advanced, and let him demonstrate that. By the time he was an adult ready for his knighthood trials Anakin would likely be the temple expert in all things droid, engineering, and possibly piloting as well, although there was at least some competition there.

Obi-Wan considered that he was likely going to have to get a crash course himself in droid creation, piloting, and Huttese, as well as education methods and fundamental theology, and groaned. But Anakin would need the opportunity to show his strengths if Obi-Wan wanted a chance to shore up his weaknesses. Obi-Wan would continue to tutor him one-on-one for philosophy, because there hadn’t been anyone else in his situation for at least a millenium.

This wasn't saving worlds and stopping civil wars like he'd thought he'd be doing as a newly knighted Jedi, but it was still important.

Saving one boy could be as valuable as saving a galaxy. Obi-Wan just needed to remind himself of that periodically.

There was no better reminder of the basics of Jedi theology and the Force than by teaching it to his new Padawan. The Force provides, Obi-Wan thought with rather wry amusement, as he prepared to introduce his belief system to a young boy who insisted that he believed it too, or at least, he would as soon as he knew it.

He’d reserved an actual classroom for the philosophy and theology lessons, even though it would just be the two of them. Qui-Gon had often taught such lessons to Obi-Wan in their own quarters, both of them hunched over the small shared workspace there. Those were fond memories for Obi-Wan but he wasn’t sure he wanted to turn his and Anakin’s living quarters into a full-time classroom. So they went to a small classroom for an hour each day to discuss philosophy. As a side benefit, he found the large presentation boards not only extremely useful but also fun to use.

For the first formal lesson on theology, he pulled up both common translations of the Jedi code so they could be compared easily.

“The Jedi code is often considered itself a set of contradictions. There are two common translations into Basic. One of them is:

> There is no Emotion, there is Peace  
>  There is no Ignorance, there is Knowledge  
>  There is no Passion, there is Serenity  
>  There is no Chaos, there is Harmony  
>  There is no Death, there is the Force

“Another translation is:

> Emotion, yet Peace  
>  Ignorance, yet Knowledge  
>  Passion, yet Serenity  
>  Chaos, yet Harmony  
>  Death, yet the Force

“These are both accepted translations of the Jedi Code into Basic. Why do you think the two different translations exist?” Obi-Wan asked.

“The, the first one says a bunch of things don’t exist, even when it’s obvious they do. But the second one says that even though they exist, the opposite of them also exists. So maybe the first things, like Emotion and Ignorance just aren’t as important as the other things like Peace and Knowledge?”

“That is certainly a valid interpretation. But go deeper. How are these two ways of saying the same thing?”

“They’re not? I mean, they’re not saying the same thing. So the second one is correcting the first one. They got the translation wrong and so they fixed it with a new translation, right?”

Obi-Wan was not impressed with that answer. “Many very smart people over millenia have considered these, consider them both to be accurate translations. So what do you think they understood that made them think they were the same?”

“They made a mistake?”

“One of the most serious mistakes a Jedi can make is to look at someone acting in a way the Jedi doesn’t understand, and assume that other person doesn’t understand what they’re doing either. You must always look for the reason. To assume that because you don’t understand something means it’s intrinsically incomprehensible is hubris of the highest level. Never assume that someone is acting irrationally just because you don’t understand the rationale. You must always ask: what do they know that I don’t? What do they see that I don’t? What do they believe that I don’t?”

Anakin looked somewhat chastised. “Okay. So what did the ancient Jedi people see that I don’t?”

“Consider focusing on just one line at a time. Pick one of the lines and tell me what you think of it.”

“Um… Chaos, yet Harmony. There is no Chaos, there is Harmony. One of them says there is both Chaos and Harmony and the other says there’s only Harmony. Which is crazy because of course there’s Chaos. So the first translation is right and the second translation is wrong.”

“Hmm. Why do you think there’s Chaos? Tell me about something chaotic.”

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan like he was insane. “Breakfast this morning. That cafeteria is crazy. I thought I was going to get trampled!”

Obi-Wan had to grin. He’d intentionally been keeping Anakin’s schedule for the last week off the crowd schedule so they didn’t have to deal with all the younglings, padawans, and instructors rushing from lesson to lesson. The vast majority of the students followed a regular schedule for that very purpose, so they could experience the rush of crowds that were so common on many planets, and so knights in temple could avoid such crowds for a respite. So the temple had a schedule that allowed for cycles of crowds and quiet. This was Anakin’s first week following the crowd schedule. There was no running in the hallways during quiet times, and no blocking the way during crowd times. It was a local custom, and gave insight into visitors, or their hosts, if their schedules put them in times of serenity or rush. Once a Jedi understood the schedule it was easy to track, but it was generally something that younglings were expected to figure out for themselves.  

“That is the perfect example. Yes, it can seem pretty chaotic. Everyone rushing around to get from one place to another and pick up some food along the way. But that’s pretty much just like the evening market at Tatooine, where people go to get food.”

“No way, the market was nothing like that, with everyone running. Or only like that if the guards are coming and it all becomes chaos. Well,” Anakin paused and Obi-Wan gave him the time to think through his caveat, “well, it’s supposed to look like chaos. To the guards. Even then, it’s not really chaos. Cause everyone has their escape routes planned in advance.”

Obi-Wan smiled in appreciate of just how brave that caveat was, to explain to a foreigner about the evening market. He didn’t focus on it, though, which seemed to relieve Anakin. Instead, he nodded his understanding.

“Exactly. To the guards, it’s chaos, but to the people, it’s harmony.”

“So there really is harmony and chaos at the same time. And at the same time as that, there isn’t chaos, there’s just harmony!” Anakin spoke with some wonder. It was really interesting, Obi-Wan reflected, to introduce these concepts to a child old enough to be amazed by them.

“It’s the same for the cafeteria. Chaos and Harmony, Harmony and no Chaos.”

“It was madness!” Anakin exclaimed, intentionally dramatizing his reaction.

Obi-Wan suppressed a laugh and merely said, “I guarantee it will make sense to you in less than half a year. In a year, it will feel as natural to you as breathing. Chaos, yet harmony. There is no Chaos, there is harmony. Harmony is understanding the structure of something. Without understanding, everything is chaotic; once you have understanding, you see patterns and understand the whys and the hows. Once you have that understanding, what once appeared to be chaotic is actually harmonious. The subject itself hasn’t changed, just your understanding of it. You can change yourself, your ability to see and understand, and that will change the galaxy around you.”

“That’s why all the padawans are learning about governments, isn’t it? So that we understand who’s in power even if it looks like chaos?” Anakin made another one of his intuitive leaps of understanding that always kind of stunned Obi-Wan.

“Exactly. Whenever something looks like complete chaos, whether it’s a market or a battlefield or a Jedi temple cafeteria, it means you have to look for the patterns that make harmony.”

“That makes sense. I can do that.” Anakin said with practicality that made Obi-Wan wonder if he even understood the difference between a philosophy of life and a training session in engineering. “But what about the next line. There is no death, there is the Force.”

“You tell me.”

“But I don’t know. I’m just a youngling.”

“You’re a youngling, certainly, but not ‘just’ a youngling. This is a useful assignment. Write me five essays. One on each line of the code. Comparing the two versions. Tell me your thoughts on each one.”

“But…”

“I’m just looking for your thoughts right now; it’s also an opportunity to practice your writing,” Obi-Wa interrupted. “It’s not a research assignment... yet.”

Anakin gulped. He was probably nervous about his writing ability. Obi-Wan was just grateful he was literate.

“This time, just write five essays of at least 300 words each telling me what you think each line means. After you’ve done that, you’ll write more essays about how different Jedi Masters of the past have viewed each tenant of the Jedi Code. For those, I’ll show you how to access the library and archives and run searches.”

Anakin groaned again at the mention of more essays but perked up at the thought of accessing the library and archives. Obi-Wan had planned to set up his padawan with this login and access training earlier, but then time had gotten away from him. Now it could be a reward for Anakin’s work and give Obi-Wan a solid deadline to do his part.

A deadline was necessary because Obi-Wan had never been so busy in his life, and that was saying something. He was training Anakin in meditation, languages, and theology, brushing up on those exact subjects himself, and studying educational techniques, all in addition to the research and consultation work into various troubles across the galaxy required of a newly knighted Jedi, and the weekly youngling class required of all Knights and Masters in residence. He made sure Anakin had enough sleep and was grateful that he was advanced enough in Force manipulation to supplement his own short nights. He just had to watch out for the headaches that came from overuse of the Force.

It was a mixed blessing that he was currently assigned to the temple itself where he could rely on some of his friends to help out. It also provided the opportunity to add some levity to his life.

Anakin’s studies of Aurabesh had quickly extended to interest in other languages, and Obi-Wan’s translation issues inspired some excellent pranks on his friends.

“You!” Senior Padawan Bant stalked down the hallway pointing an accusing finger at Obi-Wan.

“Yes?” Obi-Wan said in his most mild manner.

“You! I cannot believe you did that to me!” Bant looked ready to attack and Anakin looked disturbed. She’d helped Anakin just yesterday with understanding a Jedi koan from Trilia. She’d been very nice at the time.

“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan asked, overly innocently. Half the fun in pranking people was their realization and subsequent revenge.

“I was in the middle of translating for the Rigula delegation when their leader mentioned going fishing. I almost choked on my tongue and may never be able to look any of them in the eye again!”

Obi-Wan didn’t bother to fight the grin anymore and actually laughed.

“It’s not funny!” Bant said, despite now laughing herself. “You are in for a reckoning! I will get you back if it’s the last thing I do! How did you even come up with that?”

Obi-Wan was grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. “It wasn’t me. Pre-Republic Jedi Master Kortar has a whole book of them. All languages. They are all unbelievably filthy.”

“You are loaning me that book! And that is not getting you out of my revenge!”

“Of course not. But can I assume you’ll be up for helping me introduce a few more of them to some unsuspecting targets?”

“Absolutely! Dinner tomorrow night to go over the possibilities?”

“I look forward to it. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“The rest of my day trying not to think about the ‘intimate presence of fish’, sure.”

Obi-Wan was still grinning as she stomped back off again.

He really was looking forward to seeing what she’d come up with in return. It would undoubtedly be spectacular and waiting for it would keep him on his toes. Plus, there were more targets to be had. Who would they get next?

He already felt lighter.

He was still smiling when he looked down at Anakin who was staring at him like his eyes might pop out of his head. “You laughed,” he whispered with some amazement. Obi-Wan considered that and realized that yeah, he couldn’t think of a single other time he’d laughed in Anakin’s presence. And wasn’t that a disturbing thought.

“Yes, I do that sometimes. There hasn’t been much to laugh about recently, so sometimes I have to make something to laugh at.”

“What did you do?”

Obi-Wan considered trying to explain it to a child and just no. Then he considered who this child was and what his background was. He might be young and sweet, but Anakin knew about some of the seedier aspects of life from his years as a slave, no matter how much his mother had shielded him. And he was in training to be a Jedi.

“That koan I asked Bant to explain to you yesterday was Trillian in origin, although you studied it via a translation into Basic. It made a good example of cross-cultural enlightenment, since the koan works in both languages, although with different answers. However, Trillian are a non-sexual amphibious people who reproduce via external eggs. if you translated the koan into Rigulan, who are an aquatic race who reproduce via triad relationships, the riddle becomes a sexual reference. I knew Bant was would be serving as a Rigulan translator today, so I asked her to focus on that particular koan yesterday. I was pretty sure she’d remember it today and translate it in her own head at some point.” He grinned again.

“Huh. What does it mean in Rigulan?”

“You’ll need to learn Rigulan yourself to know that.” Obi-Wan was absolutely not going to explain the biological shenanigans of the Rigulans to a ten-year-old child. Having found the book in the archives, he expects it will make the rounds among the padawans and hopefully by the time it reached Anakin, he’d be of a more appropriate age.

“Hmph,” said Anakin.

But while languages and philosophy were coming along reasonably well, Obi-Wan was taken aback at how poorly the physical training was going. He had known that Anakin would struggle with training with the other padawans and younglings; he just hadn’t expected it to include the physical training.

Anakin was in good health, perfectly fit, and had an excellent connection to the Force. 

It was just not sufficient to match the well-fed and cared-for younglings raised in the Jedi Temple, who had been trained in fighting as soon as they could grasp a practice saber. Obi-Wan could not completely prevent bullying, but he could absolutely refrain from putting Anakin into situations where it was guaranteed.

Obi-Wan was not impressed with the training masters who’d failed to control their classes sufficiently to give Anakin a useful learning experience. He’d been sure to point out that lack to them, too. He’d also pointed out that it was of some concern that while Anakin was completely outclassed in terms of saber forms, he was a significantly better brawler than any of the other younglings of equal mass. It was a definite weakness that they’d need to find a way to address.

That conversation had possibly been more personally satisfying than it had been actually useful.

In the meantime, he pulled Anakin from that training while he’d searched for a viable alternative that did not involve Obi-Wan doing all of the teaching himself.

The benefits of being trained in negotiation most definitely included the practice of thinking outside the box, because what he found was the world of civilian centers of training in the Jedi arts. There were many of them on Coruscant of various skill level and repute, and it turned out a particularly well respected one was just a few minutes flight away.

Apparently a significant number of civilians enjoyed training in one or more of the Jedi arts, from meditation to saber fighting, and took classes for fun or exercise. Most of the Jedi just ignored them. Obi-Wan went to a visitors event with the plan to register Anakin as a student. 

It was interesting to just walk in and see the community center. The first thing that struck Obi-Wan was the clothing. Pretty much everyone was wearing the full set of indigent robes, just like the Jedi did. Clothing for warmth and privacy was a right of any being in the Republic and made freely available. But even refugees fresh from rescue missions tended to personalize and modify the robes they were given. It was only Jedi who wore the full unadorned robes as their a quasi-uniform. Apparently civilians training in the Jedi arts also wore the same robes.

Although, after another glance around, it looked like the robes were only worn during training, and then put away, replaced with more personalized outfits for returning to their normal lives. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he approved. In his opinion, the robes generally got in the way of training, and were only useful if you might need to race off at a moment’s notice. In addition to basic attire, the robes also served as a survival kit with tent and bedroll included.

But if a civilian wanted to learn saber fighting, then perhaps they might also want to be prepared for wilderness trekking and refugee rescues as well. It wasn’t precisely a bad idea to be prepared for any circumstance, it was just unlikely to be useful in their regular lives.

Obi-Wan himself was constantly shedding his outer robes when out on a mission to gain a bit more ease of movement in immediate clashes. But here on Coruscant he followed tradition and wore the full robes, ironically causing him to fit in better with all the civilians.

"We don't accept students that young. You can join, but your son?…brother?…needs to be at least 12 to join."

"Ah," Obi-Wan said. Jedi were generally exempted from age requirements in civilian societies. The trainer would not expect to see an actual Jedi here, and their robes wouldn’t identify them as Jedi, given the number of people here wearing the same robes.

Obi-Wan wanted to laugh, but kept his face placid as he considered various ways to introduce himself. It was tempting to go for a big reveal, but he didn’t want to offend or embarrass the man.

Anakin hadn’t noticed anything and was simply grumpy. "I'm too old for the Jedi but too young for here?"

"That does appear to be the case." Obi Wan said blandly.

"Were you hoping to join the Jedi, kid? It's okay. Mostly by the time you can ask for it, they don't accept anymore."

"Um..." said Anakin, looking uncertainly at Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan shrugged and went with a straight explanation, for both Anakin and the trainer. "That’s why the Council was so difficult with you. Most of the foundational work is done pre-verbal. I'm not sure how Master Qui-Gon was planning on teaching you, but the lessons in the creche haven’t really worked out since you learn things in a very different manner. Of course, you’ll learn things in a different manner than those older than you as well, which could be a problem here."

The civilian instructor looked between them with a face as blank as any career politician. "Master Qui-Gon Jinn, the late Jedi master?"

Of course a fan of the Jedi would be aware of a recent death of a highly respected Jedi Master. “Yes, he was my former master. I am Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and this is my padawan Anakin Skywalker.”

The trainer looked dumbfounded. According to his biography, Trainer Yalawari had been teaching Jedi skills for nearly three decades. He had likely never had a Jedi from the temple come in as a potential student before.

"Why would you want to register him for classes here rather than at the Temple?" He sounded unsure whether to be suspicious or just bewildered.

"As you’ve already noticed, Anakin is quite a bit older than the regular initiates. And most of the lessons are given in a holistic fashion, building upon one another, all of them based on fundamental Force abilities and mindfulness methods. I will be teaching him those abilities and methods, but to hold him back to only learning things that don't require them would be a waste of his time, while pushing him to learn with his age mates the skills without the foundation would be to set him up for failure. I'm currently trying to break the curriculum up into parts that can be learned independently." Now Master Yalawari looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not, given that his own marketing material emphasized teaching skills in a holistic fashion. "You have the reputation of doing an amazing job of teaching these skills independent of active Force sensitivity."

That was a true compliment. Yalawari appeared to teach the philosophy along with the skills, but none of the students Obi-Wan had seen so far had Force sensitivity.

Yalawari took a moment to glance around, checking on his students. His students may not be Force sensitive but they definitely knew what was going on; they were studiously stretching away, silently, clearly straining their ears to catch every word.

"Hmm. How about this? I'll make an exception for Anakin and accept him into any class he can keep up with, in exchange for you teaching a master class here for me and my most advanced students."

The eavesdropping students looked like they were about to have collective heart-attacks. Obi-Wan considered it. It was a good deal and a traditional one for many training centers, to allow for traveling teachers. It was actually how the original Jedi Temples had been established, as meeting points for traveling masters and their padawans to rest and train with whoever else was there. Like every Jedi who had reached the rank of Senior Padawan, Obi-Wan taught classes when in the Temple. He wasn’t sure what the Council would think of him teaching classes outside of the temple although he should probably assume they’d disapprove. But it was certainly within his abilities and his rights. "I'm only recently knighted and will likely have an uncertain schedule. Rather than a regular class, could I offer a series of workshops or short courses, scheduled for when I'm on Coruscant?"

"Hmm." Yalawari hummed thoughtfully, clearly struggling a bit to maintain a proper bargaining persona rather than leap on the offer, as his students practically vibrated on the mats. Obi-Wan kept his own face serene while Anakin looked up hopefully at Yalawari, apparently unaware that he was already guaranteed a place.

"Maybe we can go into your office so we can consult a calendar and a curriculum while allowing your students to continue their training undisturbed?" Obi-Wan offered, giving the man some breathing space to get his emotions under control. Also, there was a universal pleasure to all teachers in the disappointed groans of eavesdropping students.

Yalawari and Obi-Wan shared a smile. "My office is this way. I can have one of my students entertain your padawan, if you’d like?”

Obi-Wan sighed. "I appreciate the offer but he’d better stay with me. I'm keeping him under close supervision for now, until I'm sure his common sense is advancing at the same rate as his Force abilities. For the time being, where I go, he goes, and vice versa."

“I’m not going to do anything!” Anakin objected, sounding very young and sure of himself, and not even a little credible.

Obi-Wan and Yalawari came to a quite satisfactory agreement, and Anakin began to train in a classroom setting with other students at his level who were inclined to be kind. At the cost of a few extra hours of instruction, Obi-Wan himself got a new training space. It was not a hardship at all. He loved being a Jedi, it completed him, but sometimes Obi-Wan needed a break from other Jedi.

Especially when being around other Jedi meant figuring out how to deal with bullying in the creche. It didn’t seem to have improved much from his own days. Any youngling approaching their thirteenth birthday without being selected as a padawan got increasingly anxious and stressed, and any padawans who shared classes with them were the focus of jealousy and envy.

Anakin never named anyone in any specific incidences and Obi-Wan didn’t push it. Getting one bully in trouble via tattling would not fix the situation for Anakin or any other victims, current or future.

Fortunately, he had a different option.

The first step was waylaying Jedi Council Member Mace Windu in a relatively secluded space for a quick chat about something entirely different.

“Do you know why I registered Anakin for engineering classes at Coruscant University?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Do I want to know why you’re using your favorite teaching method on me?” Master Windu asked in return, sounding grumpy.

Obi-Wan liked asking his students questions and then guiding their answers, it was a valid technique and he wasn’t going to let Master Windu distract him. “Because the Jedi Temple, despite having access to all the resources of the Jedi Educational Corps, doesn’t teach anything beyond basic mechanics.”

“And your point is?”

“We are fostering contempt in our own ranks. Younglings shy away from anything that is related to any of the Service Corps, for fear that they’ll be sent to them. Any interest in perceived service subjects is mocked and discouraged by peers.”

“The members of the service corps are just as happy with their positions as the knights in the temple are.” Master Windu stated, although so blandly that Obi-Wan wasn’t even sure how much he actually believed it.

“I’m sure many of them find happiness there. But how many younglings can you think of who were happy to be sent there?”

“What exactly are you asking of me?”

“We need to start integrating the Service Corps lessons into the basic youngling lessons offered in the creche. Both to allow future Jedi Knights to have a wider education and to allow future Service Corps members a better understanding of what they’re going to.”

“You want to completely redesign the educational system of the creche to solve a problem that you already solved by registering Skywalker at the university?”

“It’s not a problem for Anakin. I think _you_ need to completely redesign the educational system of the creche to solve a problem for all the younglings who outnumber Jedi Masters two to one.” Obi-Wan made sure to stress the ‘you’ in that statement because he did not want the end result of this to get assigned the restructuring to do himself.

Mace sighed. “I see your point. But honestly, I’m just too busy to deal with it.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to reply, but Mace continued, “And by too busy, I mean reviewing and arranging missions that will save people and planets.”

“Will there ever be a better time than now to consider the welfare of our younglings?”

“No.”

They stared at each other.

Obi-Wan broke the silent impasse. “Then I will trade you: ever since Master Belon went on retreat, you teach the older younglings once a week for an hour. I will take your place in that class, if you will spend that time meditating on the division between the Jedi Temple and the Jedi Service Corps with a focus on the impact of integration versus continued separation.”

“Why should I switch out one task for another?”

“I would never be so impolite as to speculate,” Obi-Wan answered, meaning that everyone and their pet fish knew that Mace Windu disliked teaching younglings in group sessions.

“I’m a Jedi Councilor, I could just assign the class to you since you appear to have the time available.”

“That is, of course, within your abilities.” It would just be amazingly bad politics, since again, everyone knew that the councilor disliked teaching that class and everyone also knew that as a newly knighted Jedi, Obi-Wan was in a vulnerable position, subject to the more boring assignments by the Jedi Council.

“Very well. I will reserve the meditation room next door to the classroom. We will enter and depart together.”

“I appreciate your willingness to assist me, Councilor.”

“I’m sure you do,” Master Windu agreed rather dryly. But his eyes were watchful and Obi-Wan wondered how this conversation would affect his future mission assignments. Getting more social engineering missions would be fine, although hopefully not more teaching. More negotiations would be a pleasure. He enjoyed finding ways in which people could best help one another.

And now he would be teaching a weekly class on comportment for Anakin and his classmates. It was an excellent opportunity to discuss with some of the older younglings the dangers of being, or allowing others to be, bullies in the crèche. If nothing else, it was a danger they would need to look out for on missions to other planets and cultures.

Anakin clearly hated the classes he had to take with the other younglings in the temple. He seemed unsure if a class taught by Obi-Wan would be better or worse. If Obi-Wan’s own experience with harassment was at all applicable, Anakin probably expected Obi-Wan to either ignore him entirely or focus on him, making the bullying even worse after the class was over.

Obi-Wan couldn’t even reassure him. He would just try his best to make it better.

He started the lesson in meditation.

Obi-Wan knelt at the front of the class and settled into meditation. The students quickly followed suit, although a few of them took the opportunity offered by Obi-Wan's closed eyes to sneer at Anakin, as if Obi-Wan couldn’t feel their intent through the Force.

After a few minutes, though, Obi-Wan spoke:

"When I was a youngling, there was another youngling in my same age group: Bruck Chun. We were the last of our age mates to be chosen as padawans. We were both scared of what would happen if we were not chosen. It felt like we were in competition for every master who wandered the halls of the temple without a padawan by their side.”

And that certainly caught their attention, both the ones genuinely meditating and those whose minds had begun to wander.

"We worked so hard to learn the saber skills and the languages and the negotiating techniques, but somehow we had lost track of the more important lessons of empathy and self-control. It was not surprising that the masters were not selecting us.” Obi-Wan said, with sympathy for those past masters who had chosen other, easier students.

"As you train in all the skills of being a Jedi Knight, remember to train also in the character of being a Jedi Knight. This class focuses on the comportment of Jedi in different situations. It is important for a Jedi to be able to fit in with any culture they visit, and to show the appropriate respect and knowledge. But even more important, is to show the appropriate intent. You will be visiting other planets and cultures for the purpose of helping them, for the purpose of teaching them and learning from them. It is important to bow at the correct angle to the Ruler of Besero, but it is better to get it wrong with respect and good intent than to bow correctly with insolence and arrogance.”

The students were still and focused. The few spikes of guilt that he felt through the Force were encouraging, but not the intent of this lesson.

“As you learn to bow, remember to also focus on the reason for bowing. You are practicing respect: be respectful. You are practicing empathy: be kind. You are practicing greeting new people: learn from and about the people around you. Each and every one of you has something to teach and something to learn."

Obi-Wan, eyes shut, stretched out his Force presence to fill the room, connecting them all. It was a skill used in both mediation and in team battle scenarios, when everyone must work together towards a common goal. It didn’t demand agreement, but it established awareness.

It was also really difficult to accomplish. He was going to be exhausted by maintaining the careful balance of drawing everyone into Force awareness of each other without anyone of them, himself included, overwhelming the others. But for all the effort it took, it was extremely useful.

He could feel the younglings reacting to their expanded senses of each other. Their amazement and uncertainty. And most importantly, their growing desire to have this connection, this connection to the Force and to the other beings in the Force.

He remembered the first time he had experienced it, when Master Jinn had included him in one of his negotiations. It had been amazing. He had practiced the skill all the way home from that mission much to the amused confusion of the crew of the freighter they’d been on. The captain had offered him a full-time position on the crew at the end of the trip. Obi-Wan politely but rather giddily declined before Qui-Gon carried him exhausted back to the temple to rest.

"You are all younglings still in the process of becoming the people you will grow to be. And even grown, you will always continue to become your future selves. So practice being the people you want to be. And be very cautious of accidentally practicing becoming people you do not want to be."

He felt flickers of shame in some of the younglings and he wrapped them in reassurance. Shame was a corrosive and hurtful emotion. He tried to soothe it away and nudge them towards determination instead. They needed the determination to do better.

"At the very last moment, I was selected as a padawan, to save me from myself more than for any other reason. I had a lot to unlearn about who I would be. Bruck Chun was not saved from himself. He died soon after, angry and unhappy, unable to reach out to others to either give or receive help."

Obi-Wan let them all feel the grief that rose from him before being released into the Force.

"I will always regret not having the perspective to realize that we could have saved each other. Rather than fighting with one another, we could have built each other up. The role of the Jedi is to acknowledge the Force that binds us all together and assist those who are not Force sensitive to feel that connection as well. To feel it and rejoice in it. We are all better for each of us being better. If you see someone else struggling, reach out to them to help. You are still younglings, but there is never an age at which you cannot practice to be masters. If you feel yourself struggling, ask for help from someone else. It is no little thing to offer others the opportunity to practice being a master."

He could sense the slow revelation ripple out among the younglings before him. The realization of what they could all be. All of them. Together.

Anakin was not the only youngling who had some unique talent or interest or ability and he was not the only one to have some individual weakness either. If they just traded off lessons and were willing to ask for and offer assistance, they would get a level of training no Master had the time or resources to teach them. He felt some of tentatively reach out with their own Force presence to each other, just the faintest of intents. And some of them were reaching out to Anakin, curious and finally with permission, to ask about life outside of the Temple creche, a world in which few of the others had any personal experience.

“Last week, Master Windu taught you the social rules of Besero. Get up now and demonstrate them to me, as a class. I am an observer at the Besero court. Show me that you are kind and intelligent ambassadors who understand that culture.”

Obi-Wan quietly watched and moderated the connections, but let them sort themselves out. He kept his own meditative stance, if only to conserve energy while maintaining such an expansive and active Force presence in the room, but let them walk around and talk to each other, with exquisite if somewhat stilted courtesy.

It was, if he did think so himself, a rousing success. It also felt like he’d just spent a week running search and rescue drills with his Force sense by the end of the hour.

Master Windu looked moderately impressed, though he insisted on walking Obi-Wan back to his rooms before he collapsed.

After that, though, Obi-Wan mostly stuck to guided discussions and regular practice scenarios.

The bullying seemed to go away, or at least diminish, and Anakin began enjoying more of his temple classes. Even Obi-Wan’s schedule was settling into a manageable, if still extremely full, routine.

Most of the time he thought he was doing relatively well for a first-time master.

They had a celebration on the day that Anakin successfully flushed the last of the explosive out of his system. Anakin had dismantled the ignitor relatively quickly; the explosive material itself took him longer than Obi-Wan had expected, but Anakin had finally managed it. He was certifiably explosive-free. Anakin had been grinning so hard when he told Obi-Wan.

“I’m not sure what a proper celebration for this would be, young padawan,” Obi-Wan had said. “We could always set off some fireworks?”

Anakin had looked appalled. Obi-Wan’s own sense of humor tended towards the perverse, so it was tricky to determine which jokes Anakin would appreciate and which he would not.

“Or we could go swimming, and you could celebrate your freedom in more water than you could possibly drink.”

“That! Yes, we haven’t gone swimming in ages!”

And they had celebrated freedom and joy and everything going well.

Other times, Obi-Wan wondered if he was ruining everything.

They’d been master and padawan for a couple of years, going on regular missions, although only those that were safe for a thirteen-year-old padawan, when Anakin burst out with, “You don’t think I can be a Jedi!”

Since they’d been quietly reading together in their room and Obi-Wan had been feeling particularly content with life, his first response had been a confused, “What?”, as he dredged his thoughts back to the here and now.

“You think I’ll just walk away from this all! That I’m going to leave!”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Why do you think that?”

“Because you do!”

“Tell me, Anakin, what have I done or said, or failed to do or say, that makes you think I don’t believe in you?”

“You don’t believe in me!”

Obi-Wan continued to frown in some confusion. They’d been sitting in quiet companionship in their room for an hour, each focused on his own work. Anakin was working on an engineering assignment from one of his university classes and grumbling quietly to himself, while Obi-Wan read about historical Jedi educational techniques from some of the Jedi masters prior to the Temples founding. There had been a lot of discussion about what the rules of the temple schools should be, since each master had their own thoughts on which students were appropriate and what teaching methods were successful.

It was interesting and he’d been able to recognize how their thoughts and experiences reflected in the ways the temple was run now. There is no Death, there is the Force. They lived on in the Force of every Jedi here. Although perhaps not so much with Anakin, since they would not have allowed him in. It had been a passing thought.

“Are you monitoring my thoughts?” Obi-Wan was concerned but not particularly disturbed. He generally kept his thoughts well regulated and it wasn’t like he wasn’t friends with Quinlan Vos, who’s psychometry ability occasionally led to awkward truths being revealed.

Anakin’s sudden fear was significantly more of a concern. Obi-Wan let the silence stretch, hoping that Anakin would say something. He didn’t. Just got paler and paler.

Finally Obi-Wan broke the silence, since the implied answer was most definitely a yes. He kept his reply calm and slightly disinterested, hoping the projected lack of concern would help reassure Anakin that he wasn’t in trouble, even though his behavior was inappropriate. “I realize that using the Force to monitor the thoughts and feelings of a slave master is a survival instinct, but it’s not a polite thing to do. Or a kind one either. People should be judged by their actions and, to a lesser extent, by their intents, rather than by their thoughts.

He was reassured that Anakin relaxed enough to respond with a muttered, “Mom always told me it was the thought that counted.”

“I expect she meant the intent rather than the thought. Because sometimes people have thoughts that they don’t like. Thoughts that they would never act on. Have you ever wanted to hurt someone because you were angry or frustrated rather than because they had done anything that deserved an attack?”

“I…” Anakin looked a bit hunted. Obi-Wan accepted that as a yes and let him off the hook.

“People sometimes get those thoughts, even when they are very good people. What is important is that they not act on those thoughts, through either word or deed.”

“I didn’t! I wouldn’t!”

“Exactly. You wouldn’t want people to judge you based on a thought that you would never act on, right? So allow other people that same courtesy.”

“I guess…”

“That also brings us to one of the reasons a well-regulated mind, and the meditation that helps us control our thoughts, is necessary for Jedi. When you have the ability to use the Force, it is much too easy to act in response to those intrusive thoughts. Meditation is a way of maintaining control of your thoughts and emotions. Before I can trust you with any of the violent uses of the Force, you must first learn the mental control that makes it safe for you to have those skills. You can feel emotions but must train even your unconscious mind to erase intrusive thoughts, violent and unpleasant, based on those emotions.”

“I guess,” Anakin said. He was silent after that, and Obi-Wan took a moment to strengthen his mental shields before going back to his reading. The training bond between master and padawan made it too easy for eavesdropping, both intentional and not. He and Qui-Gon had both kept their thoughts to themselves unless specifically trying to communication. He would need to work on keeping his mind quiet and his thoughts focused while in Anakin’s presence, until the boy learned a bit more about mental privacy.

He got another half hour of reading done before Anakin burst out with, “But you’re a Jedi Knight! You’re supposed to be in control of your mind and you still thought it!”

Obi-Wan sighed. He put his book aside and turned to give Anakin his full attention. He doubted he’d get any more reading done tonight.

He kept his mind calm, not blocking Anakin but rather allowing his mind to deepen such that Anakin would have to exert obvious effort to see it. This technique was usually reserved for confronting highly dangerous beings in negotiation, when even seeming to give a thought away could be a weakness. It was likely not the best for addressing a child. But a child who wanted to be a Jedi, who thought he had the right to judge Obi-Wan by his thoughts, was seaking out pain. And the chill of separation was surely better than the heat of anger.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan agreed cooly. “I thought that you are not best suited to be a Jedi.”

Anakin looked heartbroken. And then angry. “Why? Why do you doubt me all the time?”

He was so young, it was tempting to offer him comfort and reassurance.

“Hardly all the time,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “It’s the rare time that I question it. Most of the time I think you’ll be a magnificent Jedi.”

“That’s not real if you also think the opposite!”

Fair enough. It was often easier to take criticism to heart than compliments.

“When we left Tatooine, we left your mother behind.” Obi-Wan broke the circular argument of what he though and how much he thought it.

“Yeah.” Anakin almost hiccuped the response, taken off guard by the seeming nonsequitur.

“Do not think for a moment that it was thoughtlessness on Master Qui-Gon’s part. It was both a test and the beginning of your training.”

“What?”

“You said goodbye to each other, and then you left and she stayed behind and neither of you are supposed to consider the other further.”

“But she’s my mom!”

“Jedi do not have attachments. For her to be the mother of a Jedi is to be at risk from any enemy you might acquire, thinking that they can manipulate you through her. She is best protected by the break, as are you. I have parents, and a brother. I am aware of them and occasionally check up on their status. But I know that if ever they are harmed, I must consider who did it and why, and that will just be one more piece of evidence in whatever mission it relates to. The birth family of Jedi get no benefits from that relationship.”

“Oh. But, what if I had refused to leave without her?”

“Then you would have refused to be a Jedi.”

“But what if I went to get her after I became a Jedi.”

“Then you would be refusing to be a Jedi.”

“But that’s not fair!”

“Being a Jedi is not about fairness. We distribute fairness to others. We do not keep it for ourselves.”

“But that’s, that’s crazy!”

“Maybe. But do you wonder now why I sometimes consider you best suited to a life outside of the Jedi Order?” 

Obi-Wan studied Anakin cooly, wondering what made this boy want to be a Jedi when he didn’t even understand what a Jedi was. It was conversations like these that made him doubt his padawan, even after so many years. It was not the attachment itself that was troubling; it was that Anakin didn’t seem to understand that it was counter to Jedi beliefs. There was no sin in not being a Jedi. Most beings in the galaxy weren’t. There was a deep sin in swearing to abide by the Jedi tenets and then breaking that oath. Obi-Wan needed this boy to at least understood what he would be swearing to if he ever passed the tests to be a Jedi Knight.

“On one of my earliest missions I made an attachment. It was the middle of a civil war and when the mission was over, I refused to leave my friends to fight and die without me. I had an attachment and thus I was not a Jedi. My master left me there without looking back because he did not have attachments to me or anyone else.” Admittedly that was a bit of a fib. Qui-Gon had plenty of attachments of his own, to Tahl and even to Xanatos, in its own twisted way. 

“But you’re a Jedi now…”

“Yes, I am one of the extremely rare cases of a Jedi who had left the Order due to an attachment being accepted back by the Jedi Council, on a probationary basis, after losing that attachment.”

“What’s probationary?”

“Probationary means that they allowed me back but watched me constantly to ensure that if I failed again, they would see and be able to act upon it immediately. Many Jedi have a few minor attachments. A pet perhaps, or a few pieces of art that they own themselves. They are signs of attachment but generally overlooked as too minor to be a threat. Nothing is too minor to be a threat to a probationary Jedi.”

“Oh. Slaves have some stuff of their own. I mean, their masters could come and take it away, but they almost never do. I even had a droid of my very own.”

“As Master Qui-Gon’s padawan, you would likely have been able to have a droid again. As my padawan you may not.” Obi-Wan didn’t explain that it was partially because Obi-Wan himself would never quite escape the suspicious supervision of the more conservative Jedi Masters and partially because Qui-Gon had always played a bit fast-and-loose with the rules. He also didn’t explain that while Obi-Wan was a rare exception allowed back into the Order, Anakin himself was another exception, not just for his age, but also his attachment to his mother. 

Master Qui-Gon had sworn to the Council that he’d overseen the breaking of that attachment himself, at their departure from Tatooine, had explained that for children to outgrow their parents was a natural thing just as it was for parents to let go of their children. Obi-Wan had serious doubts as to all of that, but kept his peace. Master Qui-Gon had been adept at negotiations but had never seemed to feel particularly obligated to truthfulness or concerned by the means with which he accomplished their missions.

“Why do _you_ even want to be a Jedi, then! You make it sound terrible!” Anakin had apparently had a much different thought process than Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan blinked. “Many people want terrible things. I don’t think what I want is so terrible as all that.”

“But why do you want it?”

“Because the Force whispers in my ear with every breath I take, with every heartbeat, that this is what I am meant to be.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Obi-Wan agreed somewhat wryly. He’d tried a few times, and been coerced a few more times, to go against that innate sense, but it was the pressure in his bones, the heat in his blood: he would be a Jedi or die trying.

Sometimes the “die trying” option seemed almost like a reprieve. But not one he could take voluntarily. A Jedi’s self-defense was overwhelming not because of attachment to life but because of commitment to the future. There was too much to do to die now.

There were people to save, worlds to save.

It was why his one remaining attachment was allowable: his love for the Duchess Satine of Mandalore was acceptable because it would never affect his actions. Satine and he were in complete agreement on that. It had been a difficult conversation, but it was possibly the most valuable one he’d ever had as well. They loved each other, desired each other, but knew their duties were all encompassing and too important for each of them. To betray his Jedi beliefs for her would be to betray her. And for her to betray her duties as the Duchess for him would be an equal betrayal of him. Together they could only accomplish half as much and so they would rejoice in each others accomplishments instead.

Their duties were to the galaxy and they would take comfort in the knowledge that the other felt the same way. And it was a comfort, just to be known and accepted.

He hoped that one day he might have a similar attachment with the Jedi Knight that Anakin could become, not the romantic interest obviously, but the shared joy in their individual accomplishments.

In the meantime, it felt sometimes like he was trapped in a push-pull relationship with Anakin, trying to teach self-control and self-reliance at the same time as teaching the skills needed to support that control and make that reliance feasible. It was an awkward relationship made all the more awkward by the power imbalance. Anakin was wildly more powerful in the Force than Obi-Wan, but Anakin was also less than half his age and had perhaps a tenth of his experience. They couldn’t be equals, but they also never quite settled as superior and junior.

Obi-Wan still gave Anakin more one-on-one instruction than any other Master gave their padawan, even as he tried to level it out by teaching more of the philosophical issues in the classroom setting.

When Master Belon had returned from her retreat, Master Windu had given her Obi-Wan’s youngling class and handed over his own older younglings class to Obi-Wan officially. He’d been teaching them ever since, although he often interspersed the lessons on comportment with discussions on the importance of Jedi principals in all aspects of life.

It was natural to have personal preferences on cultural manners, but a Jedi could no more allow themselves to become attached to certain styles of conduct than they could to certain people. An act of respect on one planet could be a deadly insult on another, and Jedi Knights could not allow themselves to cling to one manner over another.

“The Force is an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together,” Obi-Wan started one lesson. “So discuss this: why do we shun attachments while devoting ourselves to a Force that binds all the galaxy together?”

He’d guided the class into the conclusions that to have a single strong attachment could distract from the attachments to everything else. To be attached to everything was to be attached to nothing. And to be attached to nothing made it possible to be attached to everything.

The class had gone well, but Anakin spent the next few days brooding about attachment before confronting Obi-Wan with, “Why do you keep on _pushing me away?”_

Obi-Wan had struggled to explain again, trying to find different words that might make sense to Anakin when nothing else seemed to. “I’m not trying to push you away. I’m trying to make sure you are never chained to me. That I’m not holding you here.”

“What if I want you to hold me here! I want you to keep me here!”

Obi-Wan honestly wasn’t sure what to do with that. Because, yes, it was what he had wanted too, wasn’t it, when he’d been a padawan under Master Qui-Gon. He’d wanted Master Qui-Gon to want him too.

He slowly reached out and put his hands on Anakin’s shoulders, but Anakin was already turning away. He tightened his grip and pulled the boy in. It wouldn’t be long before he could no longer overpower Anakin in this way. But for now, he could draw the boy into a hug, wrapping his arms all the way around the boy.

Talking about emotions was hard. Anakin saw emotions as natural and shields as deception, but to Obi-Wan, his shields were him. Lowering them was like peeling back his skin and calling the bloody wound beneath it the real him. It wasn’t. But for his suffering student, he’d do it. He was glad that he could hold the boy, murmuring to his ear rather than looking him in the eyes, when he spoke truth that he never wanted to say aloud. “I scare myself sometimes, with how much I want to hold onto you and never let you go. To tie you to me with bonds that will never break. But I am equally scared that I’ll clip your wings, keep you forever at my side, and never get to see you soar to greater heights than I can even imagine.”

He was just as scared that the Jedi lifestyle itself would clip Anakin’s wings, but he didn’t say that. Instead, he shored up his shields and tucked that thought away inside so that Anakin would never hear the doubt.


	3. Passion, yet Serenity

“It has occurred to me that I need to give you the sex talk.”

“What?” Anakin squawked. It was an absolute delight to get that reaction.

“You’re becoming a young man, after all.” Obi-Wan had discovered over the years an utter joy in tormenting his young padawan while maintaining a completely straight face. One of these days, Anakin would catch on, but for all the suspicious glares it hadn’t happened yet.

“You don’t have to give me a sex talk!” Anakin sounded horrified and desperate instead of moody and hormonal like he had been for days now.

“I really do, especially if you already believe you know it all.” Obi-Wan was deeply skeptical of what all Anakin actually knew.

“Jedi don’t do attachments! I’ll just avoid all sex, and we’re good!”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Yeah, no. First of all, sex is fine. It can be fun, sometimes it is useful, and occasionally it is unavoidable. I’ll cover the basic physicality of it for humans and show you where to look up the different variations as it comes to cross-species affairs. But more to the point, there’s the mental component, which is the truly dangerous part.”

“… unavoidable?” Anakin whispered, because of course Anakin had the knack jumping to the most difficult point in any lecture. It was a valuable skill to understand what is being skimmed over in any given speech. It was just irritating to be the teacher on whom a student learned that skill.

Obi-Wan released his irritation to the Force and looked steadily at his young padawan. “Jedi go into some of the most dangerous situations in the galaxy, often as lone individuals trying to overturn centuries of cultural conflict. We are demonized as often as we are idolized. Torture is not an uncommon threat.”

“Oh.”

“I will do my best to ensure that you are never put into a position that you are unprepared for.” Obi-Wan promised. It was not a particularly useful promise, he knew, and from the look on Anakin’s face, the boy realized that as well. On a more prosaic level, “this is one of the reasons why we focus so much study on self-defense and escape methods.”

Soon, Obi-Wan would have to give Anakin the even more difficult talk about torture, “But for now, let’s focus on the consensual aspect of it. Without consent it is terrible. With consent, you can have a lot of fun.”

Anakin blushed.

Obi-Wan was just happy he was able to control his own blush of embarrassment giving this talk. In retrospect, he wondered how embarrassed Master Qui-Gon had been to give this particular talk to him, although at the time his master had made it seem perfectly prosaic.

“It is very important, though, that all participants have consented. Keep in mind the three possibilities: they’re doing it for fun, they’re doing it for gain, they’re doing it under coercion. Never have sex with anyone in the third category.”

Anakin practically tipped over, shaking his head so hard. “Never! I would never!”

“Good.” Obi-Wan left it at that, although later they’d discuss options when a local leader gives you the services of a sex slave for the night. That was one reason Jedi sometimes spread rumors of celibacy.

“If they want something, and are using sex to get it, just be very careful. The easiest answer is to not have sex with anyone with ulterior motives.”

“That’s not really consent at all, if they just want to get something else. Like a slave who doesn’t want to get beaten.” Anakin looked judgmentally at Obi-Wan for even considering this a separate situation.

“Mmm, there are gradients. A slave avoiding a beating is not considered a truly consenting individual. A high-ranking pleasure courtesan of Balosar using their area of expertise to compete in body control is actually enthusiastically consensual, even if the ultimate goal is to win bragging rights.”

Anakin’s eyes were nearly bursting from their sockets. Master Qui-Gon had looked smug as hell after a week on Balosar, returning with an open offer of employment from the courtesans guild. Obi-Wan himself had spent the week hanging out with the support staff and had a pleasant time, while keeping his clothing decidedly on.

“Somewhere in the middle are people who are genuinely attracted to you but also hope to get a favor. Just be sure you know ahead of time what any other participant or participants want, and how you’ll deal with it.”

Anakin was beginning to look overwhelmed. “Can’t I just not have sex? I feel like that might be the best solution at this point.”

“Passion, yet Serenity.” Obi-Wan offered.

“There is no Passion, there is Serenity?” Anakin offered rather pleadingly. 

As awkwardly hilarious as this conversation was, there was no way to laugh off one of the darker aspects. “Sex isn’t actually the real danger; the true danger is attachment. Sex by itself is fine, and we’ll absolutely get back to that, until I trust that you have a full understanding of the various ways and means.” Anakin now seemed to be trying to bury himself in his own hands. “Attachment is what can break you. And many people find sex and attachment go together.”

“So we just can’t like our partners?” Anakin mumbled into his hands. He added, “That’s awful.”

“We can like our sexual partners; we should like them. Avoid having sex with beings that you don’t like. But you cannot allow them to become attachments by which you can be manipulated. It is not good for you, and it is often deadly for them.”

“What?” The hands came down and Anakin was staring, his embarrassment forgotten. “Wait, what?”

“Attachments are like fishing lines: they can be used to tug us this way and that, against our will and against the will of the Force. The easiest way to tug such a line is via fear. Some people will try to threaten everything you care about. If they can’t find something through which to threaten you, they will try to create it. If you are assigned to political missions, you will find yourself introduced to some of the kindest, most charming, most beautiful beings in the galaxy, with whom it would be easy to form an attachment. And you must always ask yourself: who is watching to see if such an attachment forms, just so that they can hurt that kind, charming, beautiful being.”

Anakin was so pale he looked faintly green. “What…”

“It is common for people outside of the Jedi Order to attempt to lure young Jedi into forming attachments. Sometimes it is even with good intentions: thinking the Jedi will be happier that way. Much more commonly, however, there to be political objectives: a Jedi with attachments can be manipulated, and the method of that manipulation is pain. Enjoying sex is fine, but if you truly love someone, walk away and never look back. That will create its own suffering, but at least your enemies won’t prolong it because of you.”

Anakin was looking at him like he was insane. Most Jedi raised in the Temples were taught to avoid attachments on instinct. It usually wasn’t necessary delve into the horror-filled histories of why the rules against attachments were first implemented. Obi-Wan himself would have been happier avoiding looking into those histories himself, but he had needed to know the background in preparation for this talk. A lot of beings had come to messy ends before the rule was set.

“If you want them to live long happy lives, then there are three options: you go to them, they go to you, or you both walk away from each other. Most recently, the council has pressed the last option: if you fall in love with someone, acknowledge the emotion and then give it to the Force and walk away.” Obi-Wan considered his young padawan and knew that he had to be honest here. “That is what I did.”

_“What?”_

“It is, by its nature, a difficult thing to get any historical records on, so it’s unclear how common it is.” Obi-Wan continued, ignoring the interjection. Anakin did not look like he planned on letting it go, leaning forward to stare directly at Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan continued before Anakin could say anything else. “More commonly in the past, the Jedi left the Order and joined the family or community of the one they had formed an attachment with.”

“The final option isn’t done in the modern day, but there have been historical cases where the beloved of a Jedi moved in to the Jedi temple. They lived essentially in confinement for the rest of their lives, but the Jedi in question could continue taking missions without endangering the beloved. The most prominent such case was the head of the Order, back before the last Sith War. In later archives, there’s retrospective debate on whether this was a great sacrifice on Xe’s part, giving up their autonomy in order to live in absolute safety, in support of their beloved Jedi; or if this rather was a sign of the Jedi in question turning to the dark, with an obsessive, possessive love more common to the Sith.”

One thing to be said for Obi-Wan’s years of teaching an unconventional padawan: he now had years of experience searching through the Jedi archives for all mention of other unconventional Jedi. He probably now knew more oddities in Jedi history than anyone other than Master Yoda.

Several of the stories he reserved for future use when and if he ever needed to call on their rather unusual precedence. Some of them, not so much unusual as just truly ancient, he’d already used in defense of his continued and growing presence as an instructor at Master Yalawari’s Center for the Jedi Arts.

The Council had not been perfectly happy for Anakin to train at outside institutions, but had been even less pleased for Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi to teach classes at outside institutions, especially when it came to the Jedi-specific skills. But the classes continued.

The Center had begun attracting students that neither Yalawari nor Obi-Wan were particularly happy with. Students who wanted the prestige of being taught by a Jedi, rather than learning the Jedi arts for their own sake. Obi-Wan had originally simply dealt with the problem by restricting his lessons to the advanced students, letting Yalawari be the gatekeeper. Recently, though, Yalawari came to him, concerned that some of the students learning the technical skills completely failed to accept the philosophical teachings.

It was, unfortunately, not an unheard-of situation. It’s where the Sith came from, really. The ability to act, without the wisdom to know when to do so. Obi-Wan was used to working with Force-sensitive younglings, all of whom needed to be trained, regardless of temperament. Temperament could be changed, after all, although sometimes a pointed demonstration or two were needed to prompt that transformation.

“I’ll have a special lesson. All of your students are invited. It will be a lesson in melee fighting.”

“And you think that will help?” Yalawari clearly wondered where this was going.

“It will serve several purposes: among them a practical demonstration of the value of respecting one another and of working together.”

“You’re going to have them tripping over each other, aren’t you?”

“That’s the goal. If I get it right, the more dedicated students will work together to take me down, and the more difficult students will trip over themselves.”

“You think you’ll be able to run a practice melee battle that smoothly?” Yalawari was clearly dubious, and Obi-Wan realized that while he and Yalawari had become friends, familiarity had led, not to contempt, but to a certain loss of reverential esteem. It would be a lesson to Yalawari then, as well.

It would also, alas, be good practice for Obi-Wan himself since Yalawari was right that this would be a difficult type of battle to run as smoothly as he planned.

The students were all in high spirits when he got there.

“Anakin, you’re going to observe this time.”

“Really?” It was a half-hearted query. Anakin had already realized that this match had a purpose beyond just practice.

“Watch and give me a report afterwards of what you see.”

“What I see?”

“I’ll expect you to be able to do what I do, but first I need to know that you recognize what I’m doing.”

“Yeah. I’ll be waiting here. With bacta packs at the ready.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure whether or not to be insulted by that. He ruffled Anakin’s hair before pushing him towards the observation area.

He made his way to the center of the main floor with a practice blade in hand; the students gathered in front of him, with their own practice blades at the ready.

“I and my padawan joined this Center in order to create a certain training path for my padawan. It has been a successful process, both for us and I hope for the Center as well. However, it has come to my attention that some of the students here have been so focused on learning the physical skills, they have forgotten the theory. They see me and forget what I represent.”

He made no secret of who he was looking at as he spoke, his eyes chilly. Some of the students looked hunted, some defiant, and a number of them gleeful at what they saw as a well-deserved chastisement of others.

He let his eyes scan to the gleeful ones, the ones who thought they had done no wrong and were here simply to witness others being taken down a notch. “In contrast, some students have been so focused on what I represent, that they have forgotten to see me.”

Those other students shifted nervously, suddenly uncertain.

“I am an accredited Knight of the Jedi Order, with a padawan learner assigned to me. When I am not here on Coruscant, I am in negotiations with warlords and mercenaries, walking in the bloodstained alleys of civil wars and genocides. It is my right and responsibility to see everyone I meet as their own unique individual as well as their role in their greater society, and it is my right and responsibility to judge them, to judge you, to move you to better improve your lives and the lives of those around you. I train here, but I am not your friend. Your friends are those who stand next to you here, and you would do well to remember that, to foster that.”

The room was silent.

More than one student was a paler color than they’d been before. Even Yalawari was looking a bit frozen.

Anakin, sitting in the back, was mirroring Obi-Wan’s own effect, cold and watchful.

“The ability to use a sabre is the least of the Jedi Arts. It is a skill that many of us enjoy, both practicing and teaching, but it is a sign of failure to resort to it on a mission.” Not precisely correct, since the sabre was often used simply as an identification method. Fighting his way _into_ a mission was often just a matter of expediency, but using a sabre to fight his way out was very much a sign of failure.

“This will be a melee battle, with all of us using practice blades, myself included. Your goal is to touch me with a blade.” He didn’t say anything about his own goal, which was to not touch a single one of them with a blade, to control their movements so perfectly that he didn’t need to. “Come at me.”

He spread his Force presence through the whole room and allowed that to guide his moves. Those students who came at him with the clear focus of serenity within the chaos, he matched blades against, guiding their attacks to give them a taste of near success before moving on. Those who came at him with mindless passion looking muddy in the Force, he swirled around and left tripping over themselves. And the three students who had clearly worked beforehand on a plan for this, he gave an approving nod to and not only clashed blades, but even snaked his blade past each of their defenses in order to count coup. They earned the respect due to valuable opponents.

Once they’d all fallen back, gasping, he stood in the middle of the room, “No, we’re not done yet,” and raised the hand not holding his blade. It was an unnecessary external sign that he was using the Force to give them more energy than they had on their own. “Come at me.”

And they came. Obi-Wan kept it up for a good half hour, which was a significant workout but didn’t seriously push his limits. It was, however, pushing the limits of the students who were finally dragging themselves off the floor to the audience seats, completely wiped out. They’d be feeling the effects for days, but not one of them was injured.

Once they had all given up, he spoke again, still maintaining his Force presence through the entire room to ensure that they could all hear him, even beyond the pounding of blood in their ears.

“There are more _planets_ in the Republic than there are Jedi of a rank to be given missions. The requirements are harsh and there are no exceptions. In addition to the skills required in resolving problems, we must also have the skills to maintain our own neutrality. We cannot be vulnerable to blackmail, bribery, or threats. No attachments, no pride, no jealousy. An all-encompassing self-defense both physical and mental.”

He looked around the room once more at the panting and pale students.

“Anakin, it’s time for our sparring session. For today, you and I will spar one-on-one, but going forward we’ll work on melee fights. You’re quite good at this point as an individual fighter, but we need to work on your awareness of others, and your ability to move with and around others in a productive fashion.”

Anakin nodded, keeping his face as serene as a proper Jedi on a mission. Obi-Wan was proud of it.

They had their own sparring match and Obi-Wan made it an aggressively energetic one. Jedi were peaceful, but violent; passionate yet serene. Those who relied on them needed to know that, to trust that, and to never forget it.

After another half-hour of intense workout, Obi-Wan would have been soaked with sweat if he weren’t relying so heavily on the Force to supplement his own strength and endurance. Anakin was visibly lagging, although not as badly as the civilian students.

The other students had recovered enough to participate in the formal ending of the class, bowing to one another and reciting the Jedi Code that they hoped to live by, some of them more tentatively than they had previously. Others with more verve. Obi-Wan made a mental note of them, but didn’t say anything and didn’t linger after class.

He and Anakin walked back to the Temple, silently at first. Obi-Wan was leaning into the Force to deal with the headache from extensive Force use, which was admittedly a bit like imbibing alcohol to treat a hangover, but sometimes that’s what was available. Anakin was thinking his own thoughts.

It was Anakin who broke the silence. “You scared them.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because they were forgetting who we were.”

“But they’re your friends. You said they weren’t, but they are.”

“... Yes. They are. And as my friends, it is important that they know who I am. There can be no true friendship without knowledge.”

Anakin thought about it, then nodded. “I understand.”

“So, what did you see when I was sparring them?”

“It was really chaotic. I couldn’t follow it all, but you knew exactly what was going on. It’s easy to get lost in the rhythm of a fight, to just hear your own blood pounding, but you kept track of everyone. And gave individual lessons in the middle of it.”

“Go on.”

“And you were protecting your bokken. You never allowed any of the student who attacked with passion to even touch it with theirs. You only crossed blades with those who were serene in their attack.”

“Well, I allowed a pretty expansive definition of serenity, but yes. I wasn’t sure if you’d notice that, but I’m glad you did.”

“I’m one of the best padawans at the Temple in sabre fighting, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that before.”

“It’s a difficult skill to teach. Most Jedi Knights who learn it, do so in the thick of battle with live blades. Unfortunately.”

After a pause, he added, “I got that experience as Master Jinn’s padawan.”

They were bittersweet memories, more bitter than sweet really, and Obi-Wan didn’t want to think about them.

“You’re going to teach me though?”

“Yes. As you said, you’re one of the best sabre fighters in the Temple; we can’t let you plateau. You must always strive to be better. This is the next step.”

“Excellent!”

“It’s also…” Obi-Wan paused to get his thoughts in order. “It’s also important to realize that the lessons we learn in sabre fighting have much wider applications. Being aware of the people around us, being able to move through crowds and be within reach of some and out of reach from others, is important for more than just fighting.”

“The most powerful block is to not be there.” Anakin recited the phrase that all the students learned.

“Yes. The best fighters will never use their sabres. If you’re good enough, you can control both sides of the fight. If you’re better than that, you can control the fight before it ever starts.”

Anakin thought about that. “We’re caught in the middle, aren’t we? As Jedi, I mean? Self-defense is about avoiding fights entirely. But we don’t do self-defense. We do defense of others, which means we actively search for conflict and put ourselves in dangerous situations.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan agreed, curious to see where his padawan was going with this train of thought.

“Even if someone is trying to kill us, we can’t really justify using lethal actions because we knowingly went into that situation. It’s like, you can’t walk in front of a blaster and then pretend it’s the blaster’s fault for pointing at you.”

“Yes.”

“So, why do we ever use lethal action at all?”

The question from Anakin was an echo of all the times he’d heard that same question from Duchess Satine of Mandalore. She was a devout pacifist with the power and position to make it stick. He loved her and she was right, but he was right too. And their debates about the use of lethal action had more than prepared him for this. He gave Anakin one of his simpler answers.

“Because we’re not just defending ourselves. We’re also defending others. We are not pacifists. We believe in peace, but the Force is a natural thing, and nature is often deadly.”

It was a well-worn path for Obi-Wan, but he wondered where Anakin would take it. While Satine believed in the sanctity of all life, Obi-Wan knew that death had its own place as the capstone of every life, and for some a quick death was a mercy, and for more, a quick death was a mercy to their victims, past and future. And for some, lethal attack was a sign of respect, a sign that you fought them as an equal, instead of trying to teach them as a superior. Satine disagreed.

Anakin’s thought process went somewhere else entirely.

“That’s why Jedi are all so weird about death, isn’t it?” Anakin said. “It’s not just the idea that there is no death, it’s that almost any death of a Jedi could have been avoided. _Every_ death is a self-sacrifice. Even… even Qui-Gon, who could have avoided the Sith apprentice, but didn’t. Because that would have been self-defense instead of the defense of others.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan said. He couldn’t not remember running after Master Qui-Gon as his master ran after the Sith. He had been too slow and too late.

“And I need to learn how to do that.” Anakin stated.

It had been years before Obi-Wan had understood why Qui-Gon had wanted to confront the Sith alone. With his own padawan before him, Obi-Wan could understand completely.

“For as long as we go on missions together, your safety is part of my mission. But yes, when you start taking missions on your own, then you must learn know how to choose the correct paths. Every choice you make is a sacrifice of the alternatives.”

Anakin was silent after that, thinking again, and they proceeded in silence to the temple.

Classes at the Center continued, as did classes at the Temple, and the two sets of lessons dovetailed nicely, both in Obi-Wan’s general lesson plans and in Anakin’s more specific training regime.

To the Temple younglings, Obi-Wan explained:

“As a youngling I thought a Jedi Master could do anything. As a padawan, I began to see that they still had so many restrictions. It wasn’t until much more recently that I realized that I was right originally: a Jedi Master can do anything… as long as they accept the consequences of their actions. As you grow older and your Force sensitivity improves, you start seeing more and more consequences for any action.”

To the Center’s civilians he explained:

“Intensive study of cause and effect is how Jedi can accomplish the things we do. Not moving things through the air, but helping to end civil wars and unravel conspiracies, we must figure out where a single person can affect the most change with just a few words, and then use those words. We search for place where the smallest move can make the biggest positive difference, and then place ourselves there. You can struggle and struggle to try to lift a whole engine in your arms, but if you know how to use a simple pulley and lever set-up, you can move an engine with ease. It just takes knowing exactly how to set everything up and then where to apply that small amount of energy.”

He continued with a lesson common to the Jedi younglings in the temple, but a struggle for the students at the center:

“You can make a difference too. You can look for places and things and people that are struggling and provide help. I am a Jedi Knight and I am here teaching you right now. Do not think for one instant that I am unaware of the impact that can have, that each and every one of you can have, in improving a whole society.”

Anakin’s classes at the university continued, as well, and gave Anakin some experience at being independent without being too isolated. And it let him get into the regular type of trouble that an adolescent could get into. Anakin had become friends with several of the other engineering prodigies at the Coruscant Engineering College. Their redeeming features tended to be that they were either too clever to be caught or too wealthy to be punished, and Anakin somehow managed to fit right in.

Their illegal activities tended to involve hacking the programming of any droid they could catch, installing advanced decision-making algorithms based on uncertainty principles, with the results that the droids would develop personalities and personal preferences. Obi-Wan decided that it was easier to pretend not to notice than pretend he didn’t find it hilarious.

Anakin wrote a thesis on “Decision Making and Self Will by Beings Programmed Without Self” and posted anonymous manifestos on Droid Rights. Obi-Wan wondered how much Qui-Gon had known about his own youthful hijinks with Bant and Quinlan. It was ultimately good experience for Anakin, and for the civilian students Elbreth and Gregoria as well.

The times that the three had raging arguments about the meaning of sentience and self-will and consent, yelling at each other about what was right and what was wrong, was balanced by the hours and even days they spent together in silent concentration, coding and checking codes, and ensuring every last term and piece of punctuation was properly placed. When he saw them in silent companionship, rapidly typing away, Obi-Wan had to bite his tongue from pointing out their own balance of Passion and Serenity. They were good kids, all of them.

Obi-Wan finally allowed Anakin to proceed with the advanced studies on his own without direct supervision and assistance.

Obi-Wan merely needed to be a background presence to defend him against jealous civilians and aggravated Jedi masters.

“I do not appreciate being ambushed _by my formerly-non-sentient dustbin_ for a debate on ethical treatment for droids before I have even left my rooms in the morning.” Master Windu stated rather pointedly as he stalked towards Obi-Wan for their regular greeting before Obi-Wan’s class and Mace’s meditation.

“Ah,” said Obi-Wan. None of the other Jedi Knights and Masters who had been glaring at him this week had actually approached or said anything. “Did you actually win the debate?”

Mace gave him a judging stare. “Anything that has the sentience and desire to request ethical treatment, deserves to get it. I would never argue against that.”

Huh, Obi-Wan thought. And that would be why Mace was the only Jedi to actually approach him. The others must have tried to argue. Just like Obi-Wan had, himself. And lost.

“Which is why,” Mace continued with some emphasis, “we do not generally elevate our janitorial equipment to droid status, much less sentient droids.”

“Yes, well, indirect attempts to preserve their base status have failed,” Obi-Wan admitted, “and I don’t think any of us want more direct attempts that would necessarily be more public.”

Mace looked inquiringly.

“Various pieces of equipment at Coruscant University are experiencing similar… evolutions.”

Mace grimaced in understanding. They really did not want to admit to the University that a Jedi padawan was at fault, and unless the Jedi Order was specifically approached about it, they could just avoid it. If it was as generally embarrassing to the University as it was to the Temple, then they were certainly not going to go public, either.

“I suppose I should applaud your padawan’s abilities to arrange situations to his benefit.”

“Mmm,” Obi-Wan equivocated. “He still has some work to do on his long-term planning. I had a talk with our temple droids regarding how important it was for our Padawan Learners to learn a wide variety of skills. And the importance for biological creatures to learn through repetition. Now several of the janitorial droids are insisting that padawans clean their own rooms and robes.”

Mace nodded in agreement before clarifying, “Knights and Masters and general staff have jobs that must take up their attention?”

“Indeed.”

“And how did your Padawan Skywalker take that?”

“With appropriate resignation as far as I can tell. Although I think he’d regretting bragging about his actions to the other padawans who now have to clean their rooms too.”

“Fair enough. You might also want to draw his attention to the fact that while he has not significantly impacted the droids’ duties or even their desire to do their duties, he has influenced their concepts of self and self-worth in doing their duties.”

“Ah.” Obi-Wan said. _Shit_ , he thought.

“Ah, indeed.” Mace said. “I gave my dustbin the talk I usually reserve for young knights on the importance of self-motivation and the dangers of relying on external appraisal. It seemed happy enough. But there is a reason we keep the temple as insulated as we do: to allow our members a reprieve from constant interactions. Our missions require us to interact with many beings, and meditation within the Force puts us in touch with everything in our vicinity in both space and time. The Temple is supposed to offer us a sanctuary. Not another social structure to evaluate, judge, and ensure fair treatment of.”

This was nothing that Obi-Wan wasn’t quite well aware of, as Mace absolutely knew. Obi-Wan listened as respectfully as he could. “I could forward you a copy of Anakin’s essay, _The Darkness Implied in Mandatory Simplicity_ ,” he replied guilelessly. “It is quite well-thought-through, and nearly led to a riot in the youngling quarters before Padawan Hiot countered with his _Balancing Beauty: Simplicity versus Complexity_.”

Mace grimaced. “So that’s what that was about.”

“Indeed. Even without droids, we do still have beings in the temple whose welfare must be considered. Who must be,” Obi-Wan pointed out, “evaluated, judged, and ensured fair treatment.”

A light snort and a half nod were all the acknowledgement he got, but it was enough for Obi-Wan to know that he’d won that point.

Obi-Wan wasn’t quite done yet. “I could also forward to you Anakin’s essay: _The Significance of Beauty for Beauty’s Sake_ , originally assigned as a research study on Naboobian political dress, but which grew to a more universal perspective on beauty being an intrinsically virtuous thing to promote. There’s also his thesis, _Right to Creation, Right to Self_ , which analyzes the somewhat murky line between the rights and responsibilities of a creator to their creation and the rights and responsibilities of a creation as its own independent being. He really has a lot of very interesting thoughts on a wide variety of topics.”

Mace looked at him consideringly and Obi-Wan suddenly wanted to call back his own words. Had he been whining?

“Are you asking for my help or just letting me know that Skywalker, like every other padawan, is too smart for his own good?”

Obi-Wan winced, and then had to consider, because that was a serious question from a Council member. “I’m venting. And feeling overwhelmed. But I’m not asking for help. Right now.”

Mace nodded. “Okay. Let me know if that changes.”

“I will.” Obi-Wan agreed. His self-centered frustration with training Anakin defused by Mace’s sincerity. He was kind of grumpy at the loss. “Why don’t you have a padawan of your own?”

Mace looked somewhat exasperated. “You think I don’t get enough self-righteousness from every other member of the Order, _Tani_ Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Fair enough. I need to go deal with the younglings who aren’t quite so full of themselves yet.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Good luck with your meditation.”

Obi-Wan had no immediate need to teach this class of younglings since Anakin had aged out of it, but the trade had been made and would continue. Also, Obi-Wan appreciated the respite of dealing with the creche-raised younglings, and looked forward to seeing the eventual results from Mace’s meditation time.

Anakin’s little club of young engineering prodigies/hackers to upgrade the local droids was the least of the issues.

The one time when Anakin wasn’t an insane bundle of contradictory actions and desires was when he was on missions, thank the Force. On missions, he stayed focused, and was more than capable of performing his own tasks with only the lightest of supervision, coming back with excellent results.

Unfortunately, this did not translate directly to attending his university courses.

By the time Anakin’s skills had caught up to those of his age mates in the temple and bullying in the temple had stopped, Anakin had reached the teenage years and the jostling of dominance among the teenagers outside of the temple started surging.

Obi-Wan was still auditing Anakin’s engineering classes, mostly just for peace of mind for both of them. He absolutely could back off… a little bit. There was often a bit of reserve between Jedi and non-Jedi due to the power imbalance. Almost always the Jedi held the position of power, both in sheer ability to overpower others and in the rights granted to Jedi to legally do so. When Padawans left the Temple alone, they did so on missions under the auspice of their masters.

It was rare to see a Jedi padawan outside of the temple unaccompanied by a Jedi Master. And somehow Obi-Wan had not considered this when he’d originally thought that he could leave Anakin unsupervised more as a teenager.

Anakin was perfectly capable of defending himself from a mortal attack. He was less capable of non-fatally defending himself from idiots who wanted to pick on a youngling who hadn’t grown into his power yet.

And thus Obi-Wan was continuing to audit advance engineering classes.

“You’re a Jedi Master! Can’t you just get him kicked out of the university for being dark?”

Obi-Wan really wished he could raise a single eyebrow. Force knew he should have enough practice at this point, not to mention the desperate need of it. But alas, he had to stick to raising both eyebrows together. “Do you sense overwhelming darkness in them?”

“What do you call their harassment, then?”

Obi-Wan took a moment too long to bite back the word ‘tempting’ and decided to skip answering that question entirely. “In our last mission, we negotiated a ceasefire between peoples who were trying to perform genocide on each other. There was darkness there, but not actually overwhelming darkness.”

“Both sides were trying to protect themselves.”

“Yes, they were performing atrocities for noble reasons, but they were still performing atrocities.”

“Well, the other students are just being assholes because they’re bantha shit. I don’t see a reason why we can’t punish them for being bantha shit.”

“The Jedi temple runs refugee camps and training facilities but no prisons. Why do you think that is?”

Anakin rolled his eyes, and quoted, “Our focus must be on rehabilitation rather than punishment. The goal can never be revenge, but must always be a better galaxy.”

Obi-Wan allowed himself a moment to feel smug. “Exactly.”

“But wouldn’t kicking him out of university act as a deterrent to others thinking of doing the same thing?”

“You think that if no one was bothering you, then no one would even think of doing so?”

Anakin scowled. “That wasn’t what I said.”

“So should we kick out one student every semester, so that there’s always a institutional memory of someone being punished on your behalf?”

“No!” Anakin.

The argument went around in circles a few more times before Anakin went off to sulk about Obi-Wan refusal to use his status as a Jedi Knight to get a bunch of engineering students into serious trouble for being young idiots.

Frankly, if Obi-Wan was going to get someone into serious trouble for being a young idiot, it would definitely be Anakin himself.

Once he got over being mad at Obi-Wan for refusing to make bullying a mortal crime, he got mad at Obi-Wan for allowing him to take classes that he loved.

“Why are you registering me for all these engineering classes? None of the other padawans take engineering classes.”

“Do you want to stop?” Obi-Wan asked. He’d be surprised if the answer was yes. To all appearances, Anakin loved the classes. Also, “it would be a shame for you to not complete the degree.”

“But what am I going to do with an engineering degree that no other Jedi has?”

“I expect you’ll do all the engineering-related missions that no other Jedi qualifies for.”

“There aren’t any engineering missions!”

“Because there aren’t any qualified Jedi.”

“Sothramor wanted to take an engineering class with me and his master told him he couldn’t.”

“Padawan Sothramor hasn’t completed any of the prerequisite classes needed to join you.”

“Master Jugar said he couldn’t take _any_ classes at the university, he needed to take his lessons in the temple instead. Like a _proper_ padawan.”

Obi-Wan sighed and wondered if there was any way to approach Master Jugar and request that he be a bit more tactful.

He knew perfectly well there was not.

And he knew perfectly well that the other Jedi masters had reason to be dubious of Anakin. Obi-Wan had done his best to train Anakin in both the skills and the philosophy of the Jedi, but the hardest part was to instill the instincts of a Jedi. To create the thought processes that defined a Jedi.

He knew that he had not succeeded in that because Anakin still approached taboo topics directly, without understanding their nature. Obi-Wan had to do his best to explain rationally the reasons behind a culture, and make sure that Anakin not only knew it but believed it. It was particularly difficult to trust in Anakin’s thought process when it came to the Dark side since he continued to ask the very questions that were a warning sign in any creche-raised Temple youngling.

“There’s all this talk about the Dark side. Forever will it dominate your destiny… but I don’t get it. And don’t just tell me not to do it!” 

“When have I ever not given you a full explanation?” Obi-Wan sighed. Because, seriously, the very first thing he’d realized when he’d accepted Anakin as his padawan, was that he would have to be able to explain every last detail of Jedi theology down the foundational first principles to properly teach a child whose natural thought processes made him an engineering prodigy. Not to mention police his own actions to avoid any hint of hypocrisy in following the principles.

Anakin flushed. “All of the other Masters yell at me and don’t explain anything.”

“You were asking other Masters without asking me first? Anakin...”

“You’d just try to tell me I couldn’t be a Jedi again!”

“I’ve never told you that you couldn’t be a Jedi.”

Anakin stormed out.

Obi-Wan wondered why it seemed to be so intrinsic to adolescence across all species that they go absolutely insane in the process of learning how to define themselves as adults.

He’d known for a while that he would need to tell Anakin about the Dark side of the Force with more depth than most padawans were given. Anakin’s future had been shadowed for as long as Obi-Wan had known him, and it had only grown more so over the years. Obi-Wan wanted Anakin to succeed so badly. He struggled with his sense of attachment because while he wanted Anakin to succeed, he also wanted the boy to stay safe. And he could sense Anakin’s future growing more and more shadowed with every year, not necessarily dark… yet, but oh so dangerous. He wondered if Qui-Gon had sensed it, too, but been more ready to risk the results, whatever they may be.

There was a reason not all Jedi Masters took padawans, and why those who did only took one at a time. Jedi were dangerous, and people who were still learning to be Jedi even more so.

He didn’t bother to follow Anakin, since they shared rooms.

Instead he continued his research into a brewing interplanetary conflict he might be called to mediate, until Anakin slunk back in.

“Like much of Jedi theology, there is an innate paradox to the Force when it comes to the difference between the Dark and Light sides. As you are aware, the Force gives us many things: using the Force, we can gain strength, knowledge, and direction. But it also takes from us. It takes devotion and dedication and it takes emotions. And thus, users of the Light side of the Force give it our darker emotions. We give it our anger and our fear and our hatred.”

“... I thought we just gave it those to get rid of them. Like a garbage disposal.” Anakin grinned at his metaphor.

Obi-Wan snorted with some amusement at that. “Like a compost heap perhaps. To re-use after a suitable transformation. But,” Obi-Wan continued more seriously, “those emotions come back. There’s no giving anger to the Force and thus never feeling angry again.”

“That’s honestly too bad,” Anakin said. “I feel like maybe that would fix some of my problems.”

Obi-Wan winced and shook his head. “No. Because that is what the Dark side does.”

“What?”

“The Dark side also uses emotions, but it uses the lighter emotions.”

“And they don’t come back?” Anakin sounded properly horrified.

“It’s not an area we know much about, but the best theorists say that the Force consumes. Emotions offered freely come back like a pruned tree. Emotions that it takes, however, are ripped out by the roots. And it is rare for anyone to freely offer the lighter emotions. It is possible that some Darksider out there is freely offering their joy, gratitude, serenity, hope, and love to the Force while cultivating their anger, hatred, despair, and envy. It is theoretically possible.”

Obi-Wan honestly couldn’t imagine it, though. To cultivate anger was common enough, unfortunately, but to intentionally sacrifice happiness? No, he expected that sacrifice was never done in a controlled fashion.

Anakin looked a bit sick at the notion. Obi-Wan _felt_ a bit sick at the notion, in part because he’d read the accounts of Jedi who had studied the dark side of the Force, trying to learn how best to combat it. Some of them had thought they’d found a way to safely learn it. They hadn’t.

“Beings with the best of intentions have attempted to use the Dark side. Because in some ways it is faster to learn and build up. But it takes control from you, rather than giving it. The Dark side rips away whole swathes of your emotional capacity. Either rips them away or maybe smothers them with obsession. It’s unclear as to whether the loss can be undone. What is clear, from all the records, is that the users of the Dark side don’t miss that lost capacity. They had love and now they don’t even understand it enough to wish for it. The vast majority of Jedi who have fallen to darkness did not start out malicious or power hungry. They often went into the study with the best of intent and then lost that intent to the Dark side.”

“Why aren’t we taught this? Why isn’t this part of the basic lessons?”

“Because there used to be a regular attrition rate of students falling to the Dark side when it was taught in the basic classes. Too many students thought they could try it just once for the experience, without being affected, because in theory it was possible.” 

“Why are you telling me, then? Aren’t you worried that _I’ll_ try to use the Dark side of the Force?” Anakin sounded annoyed that Obi-Wan might not think Anakin had the potential to fall to the Dark side of the Force. Obi-Wan thought it was best not to mention that he was honestly terrified of that very eventuality.

“I think you know enough about engineering to understand how the large difference between theory and practice.” Anakin had ranted for days after being assigned a group project to design a droid, as the only one who had actually built a droid before.

Anakin was more than willing to delve into his grievance again, “Those others were stupid! They never even thought that their droid might get dirty!”

Obi-Wan almost wanted to let him continue on, because Anakin hit such interesting points on his rants. But that wasn’t the topic on hand, so he cut him off.

“There may come a point in your life when you are asked to sacrifice yourself for some greater goal. This is not uncommon for Jedi, and it is best to be prepared for that question, to know when you will say ‘yes’ and when you will say ‘no’. If you ever agree to such a sacrifice, you must stick to it to the very end. It’s hard, especially when the sacrifice is your life. If one has given one’s life over the Dark side, any sacrifice is impossible – the Dark side is too selfish to allow any sacrifice. Anything you try to protect using the Dark side will be the first thing you destroy once it has you.”

He had to be sure that Anakin would not be tempted. Or rather, that when he was inevitably tempted, that he would know better than to give in. The shadow over Anakin’s future remained unchanged, despite his maturing and advancing training, and it worried Obi-Wan.

But of more immediate concern was the Knighthood trials. In order to graduate from being a padawan to being a knight, a Jedi had to pass a trial, testing their dedication to the Light and their rejection of the Dark. There were no hard rules about what a trial consisted of, because they were always personalized to the individual. For Obi-Wan, the Council had considered that his fight with the Sith and Qui-Gon’s death had combined into enough of a trial for him. They had been right about that, but he almost wished they hadn’t, just so that he had personal experience in how a formal knighthood trial was arranged. Instead he studied the histories of others.

Anakin was a prodigy. He soaked up the training that Obi-Wan gave him and looked for more. By the time he was twenty, he would as ready for Knighthood as Obi-Wan could make him. Maybe a more experienced master could do more, but too soon Obi-Wan would just be offering Anakin help with guided self-study and providing the perspective that an extra decade or so of age. Anakin would be ready for Knighthood all too soon and Obi-Wan needed to find a suitable trial for him.

The trials were more than just a test; they were a tempering process. They were a final preparation before a Jedi was sent out to missions on their own. And until then, Anakin would be an untempered blade, strong and sharp and yet so very fragile. So far Obi-Wan hadn’t found a single trial that would truly test and temper Anakin without being stupidly, catastrophically dangerous. 


	4. Ignorance, yet Knowledge

“The Jedi Council invites me to a seat on the Council at the same time as you override my position as a Jedi Master and promote my padawan out from under me? I don’t quite see the purpose in requesting my input while you are so evidently willing to ignore it.” Obi-Wan kept his tone calm and dry, though he felt furious.

It was not unexpected that Anakin began to chaff against Obi-Wan’s direction as a teenager. His education had always been unbalanced, and in many of the most obvious ways, Anakin excelled beyond his peers. It was the more subtle ways of the Jedi that he still lagged behind in.

Many padawans, even without Anakin’s particular history, grew eager for their knight’s trials before their masters considered them ready. It was not unexpected.

What was unusual was for the Jedi Council to grant his padawan knighthood without his approval.

“I’m trying to think of a single case in which a padawan has been knighted without their master’s express permission, aside from the master’s death or fall to darkness.”

“You’re being too protective of the boy. I understand that you have had to take him on a unique course of study, but you have succeeded. It is time for him to take independent missions and for you to do the same.” After a moment, Mace gave him a reassuring smile. “He’ll be fine.”

“You trust that I’ve done a good job in training him, but do not trust me to tell when that training is complete?”

Mace sighed. “We’ve all seen what he’s accomplished. Chancellor Palpatine in particular has seen what he’s capable of. Skywalker is a capable Jedi and will be an excellent representative of the Jedi to the senate.”

“And you feel that you must give in to pressure from an external source on this matter rather than the request of his master? Relegating a potential Jedi Knight to be a propaganda tool instead?”

That must have scored a hit because the council room was suddenly chillier. “There is balance in all things. Anakin Skywalker will be knighted and you will be congratulated on your own rank of master, having graduated a new knight.”

Obi-Wan bit back an instinctive request to maintain his current rank of Knight. Anakin would take it as a rejection while the Councilors would brush it off as a mere tantrum. After a moment to collect himself, he bowed. “As the Council wills.”

He’d be damned before he called it the will of the Force.

Unfortunately, Anakin somehow got wind of the whole argument. “You tried to keep me from getting knighted!”

This was a crossroads. Did he treat Anakin as his padawan or as an independent knight? He didn’t even know. But damn it, if this was what the Council wanted, then yes, let him treat Anakin as a knight and hope he holds under the pressure.

“Yes, I did. I think you still need more time before you take the vows of a knight.”

He plowed on even as Anakin drew breath to yell more. “But I have been overridden. So prove me wrong. Prove that you can abide by the code, can support it and allow it to support you, especially in these particularly fraught times.”

And there had been a flinch there, when he mentioned abiding by the code. A flinch that Obi-Wan didn’t fully understand but could guess at. He wondered somewhat despairingly which of the tenants Anakin had been breaking recently.

At least the upside of this whole fuck-up was that any transgressions of Anakin’s discovered now would be solely his own failure as a knight, rather than reflecting on Obi-Wan as well. At least, officially. Unofficially, of course, they would always be connected as Padawan and Master.

“I will! I’ll prove you wrong! I’ll be the best Jedi you’ve ever heard of, more powerful than you could ever dream of being!”

Obi-Wan wondered how Anakin saw him, that this was the point he stressed, that he would be a more powerful Knight than Obi-Wan. That had been obvious from the very start.

Anakin had an off-the-chart midichlorian count and an ancient prophecy. Obi-Wan had determination and several years head start in learning. Maybe padawans were always supposed to idolize their masters, and that too was something that Obi-Wan had fallen short of, with his always-fraught relationship with Master Qui-Gon.

Anakin passed the Knighthood trials, of course, and took his first solo mission as a Jedi Knight. Obi-Wan released his jealousy to the Force. He hadn’t gotten a chance to have a first solo mission as a Jedi Knight because by the time he was knighted, he already had Anakin as his padawan. Everyone’s life went different ways. The jealousy went out to the Force and was gone.

His anger at the Jedi Council, however, remained. It burned, and he released it, and it returned.

He wondered if this was what it felt like to begin a fall to darkness.

He tried to focus on other things.

As a knight, Anakin had moved out of the padawan rooms attached to Obi-Wan’s room, and Obi-Wan took the opportunity to move out of the whole suite as well. He had lived there since he was thirteen years old, first moving into the padawan bedroom and then into the master bedroom after Qui-Gon had died.

Being in his own space was unnerving. He even got the slightly more elaborate rooms offered to Jedi Masters currently without padawans, rather than one of the rooms for Jedi Knights. Quinlan Vos and Bant Eerin both pointed out that his rooms were nice enough that they were going to just start sleeping on his sofa when they were passing through Coruscant rather than taking one of the visitor’s rooms.

He was looking forward to it.

In part because the rooms were very quiet. No droid parts littered everywhere, nothing moved except what he himself moved.

There was plenty of reading to do, catching up on the issues currently in front of the Council: the steady stream of incoming mission requests as well as the backlog of requests never answered. He read and meditated and learned the patterns for how missions were accepted and assigned, and he released his anger to the Force.

“You’re still angry.” Mace pointed out.

Obi-Wan had to bite back his first three responses to that. Finally he settled on, “yes.” There wasn’t much point in denying it, after all.

Mace waited without comment, and Obi-Wan struggled to release his growing anger to the Force once more. Some went, but not much and it would come back, he knew. “The Force doesn’t take it.”

“You need to meditate on why you’re angry, and release not just the anger but the source of that anger.”

“I know that,” Obi-Wan found himself snapping, much to his own embarrassment.

“Do you want me to help?” Mace asked, ignoring Obi-Wan’s snappishness with understanding.

Obi-Wan sighed and consciously let go of the tension in his shoulders. He didn’t want to accept help from one of the objects of his anger, but that childish response was beneath him. Accepting offered help when one needed it, from any source at all, was a skill in and of itself.

“Yes, thank you.”

They went to a meditation room because there was no point in postponing this. He would be able to accomplish more, faster, once he was no longer distracted by his own intermittent rage.

He settled into meditation with Mace facing him. He kept his focus to his interior self but with enough awareness of Mace to allow the older being’s words to reach him.

“When emotions don’t leave us, it’s because we haven’t found the correct source of them. Until you find the source, it will return. So let the anger burn for now. We are safe in the middle of the Jedi Temple. No actions are required of you, no decisions will be made in this state. You will do no harm and take no harm from allowing the anger to rise right now. Tell me, what is the anger?”

“The Council ignored my judgement on Anakin. You made him a knight before he was ready.” The anger surged unpleasantly in his head, just by speaking of it, throbbing like an incipient migraine. Once he was started talking, he couldn’t seem to stop and struggled to keep his breathing even, “He’s going to die or fall and the Council will blame him, or me, and it won’t be our fault, it will be yours, theirs! You all refused to listen! And now it’s too late to go back and none of you will even acknowledge that it was a mistake! When the consequences finally hit, it will be too late to even be a learning experience!”

“Anger hurts,” Mace said, his deep voice a calm counterpoint to Obi-Wan’s rising anger. “But you must lean into the pain first, see what is causing it before letting it go. You can’t fully release it until you fully understand it.”

“I know that!”

“I know you know that. But it is still important to say. Are you angry at Anakin?”

“No!”

“Don’t respond immediately. Search the anger. Confirm it or deny it. Are you angry at Anakin?”

Obi-Wan forced his breathing to deepen and his mind to focus on the firestorm of anger inside him, searching for his feelings on Anakin through it all. There was irritation at Anakin, but no anger. The anger swirled around his feelings for Anakin but didn’t touch them. Only in this moment he realized how reassuring it was to find that he didn’t harbor lasting anger toward his own padawan. He hadn’t truly been sure before.

His turmoil seemed to lessen just from seeing in his own mind that it wasn’t directed at Anakin.

“No, I’m not angry at Anakin.” He could speak it with calm certainty.

“Not even at his status as a Knight?”

“No, not at all,” he blinked a bit at his own certainty regarding that. “Anakin is a Knight now, regardless of my will, and he will rise or fall on his own merits.”

“Are you angry at the Council?”

The anger surged again. “Of course I’m angry at the Council!”

“Don’t respond immediately. Search the anger and find its source. Are you angry at the Council?”

Obi-Wan breathed and tried to focus his thoughts on the Council, but the anger just surged and swirled. That wasn’t right, that was mindless rage and there had to be a cause. He leaned into the anger, let himself fall into it, trying to find the source and the target.

The Council was made up of twelve of the wisest Jedi Masters. They spoke for the Force. He’d been angry at the Force before, as a youngling, before he’d been chosen as a padawan, when the Force had told him he was destined to be a Jedi even as his own circumstances seemed to tell him he never would be. It was the perceived insincerity of it that had enraged him then. That rage had not left him until he had learned to ignore the words spoken to him about his fate and trust purely in the Force.

This felt like that, but different.

He wasn’t angry at the Force this time. He trusted the Force.

It was the Council that he was angry at. The Council that was supposed to represent the Force. It felt like anger at the Force and yet not, at the same time, because the Council was supposed to be a near manifestation of the will of the Force… but wasn’t.

“The Council acted against the will of the Force.” The words came out with surprised disbelief, brushing aside the anger that had masked that simple thought.

How could the Council act against the will of the Force? It wasn’t possible. And yet it happened.

It seemed like such a minor issue: Anakin had passed his trials and Obi-Wan was resigned to his change in status. But the cause of it, that was what ignited the anger, over and over again: the Council had not represented the will of the Force.

“The will of the Force is not always easy to see.” Mace said. “Do you think you see the will of the Force better than the other members?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered. “Not always, but yes, in this I knew the will of the Force better than they did.”

“And that is why we invited you onto the Council.”

“Because I disagreed?”

“The Council acts as one, but the members rarely agree on anything.”

“That’s…” Obi-Wan shook his head.

“If a problem is simple enough that we all agree, it is simple enough that it is solved before it ever reaches the Council.”

“You speak for the Force.” Obi-Wan argued.

“Ignorance, yet Knowledge,” Mace recited back, a reminder of how full of contradictions the Force was. Obi-Wan was used to being uncertain even with the Force, with doing his best with imperfect knowledge. He wasn’t used to thinking that maybe the Jedi Councilors felt the same way.

“But,” Obi-Wan wondered if he was just whining now, “but you’re the Council!”

“We are sentient beings who access and interpret the Force to the best of our abilities.”

This wasn’t a meditation anymore, and Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure when it had transitioned from meditation to conversation, but it had served its purpose. He was settled in a way he hadn’t been for weeks.

The anger was finally gone, taking with it his reverence for the Council. He could forgive them their fallibility in a way he couldn’t forgive hypocrisy. They were no more living avatars of the Force than he was himself.

He prodded at his own thoughts on the Council, testing for anger but found only an odd regret. He still respected them, trusted them to do their best, and was doubly grateful for Mace’s help, but his vision of them had lost its luster. They were diminished in his opinion.

They still had his respect, but no longer his deference.

It was ultimately rather freeing.

He was still the youngest member by far, with the least experience, but he didn’t feel out of place sitting in that Council anymore, taking his seat and listening to the same issues and voicing his own perspectives in conference with them.

He listened to the other Councilors and took their words into consideration, but didn’t feel himself bound to act upon their direction over his own considerations. The younglings in the creche were surprisingly quick to notice and take advantage.

The first time a youngling had approached him, Obi-Wan thought he knew what to expect. “I’m sorry, youngling,” he said, “I’m not going to take another padawan at this time.”

“I know, that’s not… that’s not what I’m asking for.” The youngling stuttered, staring at the floor.

Obi-Wan considered the youngling and put down his tablet. There had been too many times in his life, especially at that age, when he had desperately needed the advice and help of a Master, and he had only sometimes received it. He had worked hard to always be there for Anakin, and surely he could take a few minutes out of his day to help this youngling as well. “Do you want to walk with me or do you want us to find a meditation room?”

The youngling’s eyes flickered to his briefly, “Can… can we find a meditation room?”

“Of course.”

Increasingly, Obi-Wan wondered if the meditation rooms should be renamed confessionals. He expected they were used for secret, or at least confidential, confessions much more often than they were used for meditation.

“I’m, I’m not going to be picked as a padawan.” The youngling finally managed to say, half-defiant and half… mortified, Obi-Wan finally decided. Obi-Wan had to bite back the immediate instinct to reassure the youngling.

“Why do you say that?”

“I’m not strong enough. I’m not good enough. And there aren’t enough available masters.”

Obi-Wan remained silent, because what could he say? The youngling was likely correct, although mostly for the later reason. The Jedi Creche took in every Force-sensitive infant they found, to ensure that sensitivity was properly trained. Every youngling in the temple had the potential to be a padawan, the potential to be a Knight and a Master. But there were too few Masters to foster that potential in them all. This youngling was good enough to be a padawan, a knight, and eventually a master. But it was quite likely that she wouldn’t stand out enough to be chosen as a padawan.

She nodded at his silence. “And, and it’s okay. It really is. I’ve always known I wasn’t going to be chosen, but, but I don’t want to be assigned to one of the other Jedi Corps.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to be successful. I don’t want to be a failed Jedi, I want to be a successful something else.”

Obi-Wan nodded. He wished he’d had this youngling’s composure at her age. “Do you know what you want to be successful at?” he asked and then added quickly, “It’s okay if the answer is no.”

She relaxed. “No. Not really. I’m not, I know I’m not a prodigy like your previous padawan, but I thought, I thought maybe you could help me get into university classes?”

Obi-Wan considered that. The obvious answer was no, that she wasn’t a prodigy and did not have a master to help ease her way. Sticking her in a university class would more likely set her up to fail than prepare her for success. But it was still the right idea. “I think what you want instead is a preparatory school. Or possibly an apprenticeship if you had an idea of what you wanted. But if you want to see the possibilities, you want a preparatory school.”

“Can I do that?”

“I don’t see why not,” Obi-Wan answered. And he couldn’t see any reason why not. The Jedi Order had a certain amount of funds available for the care and education of each youngling. Nothing said it couldn’t be applied to external lessons. So he arranged for that youngling to go to a Coruscant preparatory school, although with the proviso that she continue to train her Force sensitivity and control at the Temple.

When other padawans wanted to augment their training with classes outside of the Order, he said, _sure, why not_. When other younglings wanted to join his training at the Jedi Center he said, _sure_ , because, again, why not. As a Councilor he was in a position to authorize it; as Anakin’s master he had experience with pretty much everything a Jedi youngling could get up to. He made sure that when they attended events outside of the Order, they went in pairs, or larger groups.

He’d gotten more than a few glares from the other Jedi Masters but nothing specific was said until Mace approached him.

“Are you actively trying to destroy the Jedi Order?” Mace asked, sounding more curious than concerned.

“Uh…” Obi-Wan said, and then, “No.” Because, no, he was not trying to destroy the Order, and also no, he was not going to ask where that question had come from.

“Hmm.” Mace said. When he didn’t elaborate what this was all about, Obi-Wan shot him a quick glare but refused to ask.

After a slight pause, Mace continued, “There is some concern that you are corrupting the younglings and turning them away from the Order.”

“There is some concern?” Obi-Wan repeated, to highlight the passive quality of that phrasing.

Mace looked amused. “Indeed.”

“Well, anyone affected by this ambient aura of concern,” Obi-Wan allowed his sarcasm free range with that, “can address me directly.” He held eye contact with Mace, in case that was what this conversation was: someone with ‘concerns’ addressing him directly.

Mace continued to look amused. “I am not at all concerned with you helping younglings explore their options for the future. I am even less concerned that Knights and Masters have a smaller group of students to select padawans from. I’m actually quite pleased that you are inspiring those same procrastinating Knights and Masters to formally select padawans before those potential padawans find other directions for themselves.” 

There had been an influx of Knights and Masters visiting the creche. And apart from his apparent role in inspiring this, he was also now a Master without a padawan while his own age-mates were beginning to consider taking on their first padawans. Which meant they dragged Obi-Wan to all the creche exhibition matches for his opinion, which in turn lead to hopeful younglings following him around with longing in their eyes. It was, quite frankly, disturbing. Also retroactively embarrassingly familiar in his own behavior as a youngling.

Whenever Bant or Quilan asked his thoughts on training padawans, he reminded them that he had trained _Anakin_ , which generally quashed that discussion. It was a rare week that Anakin wasn’t in the news cycle regarding some idiocy and/or heroics.

Somehow word got to Anakin about Obi-Wan attending some of the creche exhibitions, and he came back to the Temple to jealously declare that it was just _fine_ for Obi-Wan to get a new padawan. “It’s a good idea,” Anakin had bit out angrily, “you’ll make a _wonderful_ master for a proper creche-raised youngling.”

Obi-Wan wondered if Anakin intended to be insulting or was just accidentally so. Anakin was a skilled fighter and engineer, and even investigator, but a pretty appalling negotiator, so it could well have been accidental. And Force knew, it was nothing he hadn’t thought before, that life would have been easier with a creche-raised youngling for his padawan. But he couldn’t quite consider the accusation seriously, accidental or not, given how angrily Anakin was attempting to be supportive.

Obi-Wan finally cut off Anakin’s assurances that he’d be just _delighted_ for Obi-Wan to give him a brother padawan. “I’m not taking another padawan right now. I’ll let you know if that ever changes, but I’m busy.”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “You’re always busy. That never stops you from taking on another task.”

Which was all too true, but Obi-Wan found himself grinning, “However, Anakin, you are a bright new Knight – surely you’ve given some thought to taking on a padawan yourself?”

Anakin’s eyes widened with horror. He managed to croak out a horrified, “What?”

It had been too long since he’d last been able to inspire that particular reaction from his old padawan and Obi-Wan intended to take full advantage. “Yes, surely you have plans to make me a Grand-Master. Shall I keep an eye out for an appropriate youngling for you?”

“No, no, I’m really way too busy, and not ready yet, and, no, Obi-Wan, no!” Anakin desperately tried to back away from this whole conversation.

“Are you sure?”

“I am absolutely sure. Let’s go somewhere, out in the city! We can catch up on what we’ve been doing! It’ll be great. Away from the temple.” _Away from any potential new padawans too_ , went unsaid but heavily implied.

“That does sound good.” It was good.

Obi-Wan might not have a padawan anymore, but he did still have Anakin.

Plus he had his own missions.

It was traditional for Council Members to stay at the Temple, but there were no particular rules against them traveling. Obi-Wan began taking some missions himself. It was odd going on solo missions. He had occasionally done supplemental excursions as a padawan in support of Master Jinn’s primary missions, but he’d never taken a mission completely by himself before. Never been in a situation where he wasn’t keeping track of another Jedi. It was odd. Not good or bad, just odd.

As a member of the Jedi Council, Obi-Wan was now much more aware of the ongoing search for the Sith Master whose apprentice had killed Qui-Gon. Though he had killed the apprentice on the spot, his search for the Sith Master had lapsed, as he’d focused on Anakin’s training and his own specific missions.

Unfortunately, the other Councilors with their own priorities had done the same. He wished he could blame them, but he and they were truly all in the same situation.

It was a slow search, bogged down by uncertainty regarding where to search and how to even recognize results. There was darkness everywhere just as there was light. And the Jedi Order always had so many missions.

It would have been easy to overlook the pattern that formed from all those missions. Obi-Wan was fairly sure all the other Councilors _had_ overlooked the pattern. There were enough exceptions that he would have missed it too if he hadn’t taken so many advanced engineering classes with Anakin. Those classes involved statistical analysis of broader-range results rather than mere binary testing.

Statistically: Missions closer to the Core were more difficult. Outer Rim missions were easier.

There was something seriously wrong. It was so pervasive that Obi-Wan wouldn’t have noticed it if he weren’t a member of the Council and a new member at that, reviewing a huge backlog of mission reports to get a better understanding of how missions were received and assigned and resolved. Something was seriously wrong, though, because there was a pattern.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what to do with the discovery. There were still many difficult missions on the outer rim and still plenty of easy missions in the core. It was just that a significant number of missions in the core that should have been easy weren’t.

He went to Mace.

Mace listened to him, looked over the numbers, and then suggested that they spar.

“Is there a goal to this?”

“Yes. There is something I want to test.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

“Not yet, if you don’t mind.”

“As you will.”

“Let’s go to your civilian training arena.”

Obi-Wan was puzzled, but if Mace didn’t want to explain until after he had tested whatever he was testing, that was his prerogative. At least walking to the training center gave them some unobserved time to catch up on Council matters.

Working on the Council was an interesting experience of being a single cog in a massive machine, with overlapping roles that were also interconnected and independent. Each member tackled different research areas, bringing their results back to the Council as a whole.

Ignorance and Knowledge, hand-in-hand.

“I’m not sure how much privacy we’ll be afforded here,” Obi-Wan said once they reached the training center.

“Give your students a treat. I assume they’d enjoy watching a pair of Jedi Masters spar.” Mace managed to communicate his amusement despite keeping a completely straight face.

It was a safe assumption given that the students were already nudging each other, pulling back towards the edge of the room, and giving the pair of Jedi hopeful looks. “I’m sure they will enjoy seeing me get trounced.”

“We’ll see.”

Mace walked to the middle of the arena first, and pulled out his lightsabre rather than grab a practice blade. He waited for Obi-Wan to approach him, his own lightsabre in his hand, before they started the bout. It started slow, each just testing out the other. Mace had his own intent and Obi-Wan bided his time until it was revealed.

Brief clashes and then retreats, with much circling. There was the hum of the lightsabres resonated and the intermittent hiss of clashing sabres, but no words at all. With the glow of blue and purple lightsabres before him, the rest of the room faded into the background.

Their clashes grew longer and more frequent, demanding greater effort. The flow of the Force guided their bodies, but the sheer repetition of muscle memory also kicked in. Strikes were inspired by instinct in the moment but built on logic and supported by Force guidance.

By the end, it became a brutally close battle, only held back from being truly dangerous by his and Mace’s skill. This was not a battle his students should model their own spars after, nor was it an exhibition highlighting a Jedi’s mystical skill.

It was harsh and fast and powerful like a stampede.

And Obi-Wan won. One hand holding his lightsabre to Mace’s throat while the other gripped Mace’s hand to keep his lightsabre away.

Both of them were panting and sweat covered.

They disengaged and hung their lightsabres back on their belts, and formally bowed to each other. Obi-Wan felt stunned and wasn’t sure if he managed to hide that or not. Mace, he thought, looked oddly abstracted. Both content with the spar and concerned by it.

Obi-Wan realized that in his focus on sparring, he’d forgotten that Mace had been testing for something specific.

They spent a few minutes talking with the students gaping at the edge of the arena who were variously inspired and overwhelmed by what they had seen. But soon, Obi-Wan was able to break away, leading Mace out of the Center and back on their way to the Temple.

“You seem satisfied with the results of your test.”

“Yes and no. I have found more evidence supporting a theory I have, but it is a theory I would be happier disproving. But under the circumstance, I did expect you to win the match, especially in that particular center rather than in the Temple.

“You expected that _I_ would defeat _you?_ ” Obi-Wan gaped.

“Sparring is a test. The students at your civilian center spar to test their physical capabilities and training. For Jedi, it more often tests Force sensitivity, to see who gets the more perfect direction from the Force. Force sensitivity is significantly more important in a fight, after all, then mere physicality or training.”

Mace wasn’t saying anything that Obi-Wan didn’t already know, but he was clearly laying a foundation for what came next. “Which is why I would have expected you to win this match.” Obi-Wan prompted.

“Which is why I would have expected to win the match,” Mace agreed. There was absolutely no shame in being less Force-sensitive than Master Jedi Mace Windu and both of them knew it perfectly well. Then Mace continued, “If our connections to the Force were unhindered.”

“What?”

“You’ve been training a set of civilians in sabre fighting and focusing on the skills without the Force. You get plenty of Force sensitivity training in other manners,” Mace waved off the potential concern before Obi-Wan could even fully flinch. “The Force is not a crutch to make up for a weakness, but it is a strength we tend to rely on. I’ve begun to suspect that the Force itself is shadowed somehow. And the whole Jedi Temple on Coruscant affected.”

Obi-Wan felt his face go blank, relying on all his diplomacy training to not let his jaw hang or his knees buckle. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Yes, he had seen a deeply troubling pattern, but he had not expected confirmation of such wide-spread ramifications.

“What do we even do about that?”

“That is a very good question to which I do not yet have an answer. If you identify a solution, do let me know.”

“That is not reassuring.”

“No, it is not.”

But there wasn’t more to say on the topic either.

They walked together in silence for a while before their paths diverged, each to his own tasks, neither with any ideas for the overwhelming problem they were only just beginning to identify.

Unfortunately, there were plenty of smaller problems and missions demanding their attention.

Including Anakin Skywalker, returned from his latest mission, pacing outside of Obi-Wan’s doors and dragging him inside as soon as he returned.

"I've been dreaming about my mom dying. She's in pain. I have to do something!" Anakin blurted out as soon as the door closed behind them. Obi-Wan felt his stomach sink. This was not going to be pretty.

"Start by telling me exactly what you've seen."

"I need to go to her!"

"That is the exact opposite of what you need to do. Now tell me what you've seen." Obi-Wan pushed on before Anakin could voice his objection.

"She's in pain! She's being tortured! I have to save her."

"Why was she being tortured?"

"I don't know! Maybe because she's a slave!"

"She's not a slave. She was freed eight years ago and is married to a moisture farmer. They have a son together. Owen."

"What?"

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. Anakin had heard him perfectly fine, and if he didn't, he needed to work on his aural comprehension while under emotional conflict. It was an important skill for a Jedi.

"How do you know that?"

"I looked it up." Obi-Wan said rather dryly. At Anakin's poisonous look, Obi-Wan clarified, "there are a few dozen people around the galaxy that I keep tabs on. I'm sure I've shown you how to do this. We regularly keep track of important people in the news."

"You keep track of my mom? _I_ could have kept track of my mom?"

"Yes, and maybe. You needed to learn to let go, and keeping track of her could have caused some to question whether or not you had, but it is not, in itself, a problem to get the occasional updates."

"So we can save her!"

"Now we get back to my original question of what your vision actually showed."

"There weren't any details. Just her pain. And then she dies!"

"So the vision doesn't give you any details, just the urge to go to a certain place immediately or else your mother is going to die in pain?"

_"Yes!"_

"And you don't see anything wrong with that?"

"I see _a lot_ wrong with that!"

"No, think it through. A vision imports that you, a Jedi Knight, must do something specific, or else something terrible will happen to you."

"Not to me, to _my mom!_ You're not listening!"

"I am listening. You're not paying attention. You are being threatened. This is why Jedi don't have attachments. So my next question is, who knows about your mother?"

"Why can't we just go and save her?!" Anakin practically wailed and Obi-Wan seriously wanted to take him to the Jedi Council and explain that this is why Obi-Wan had resisted his promotion to Jedi Knight. This behavior, while never acceptable per se, was expected to a certain extent of a padawan. It was completely unacceptable from a Knight.

But he couldn't do that. Anakin clearly knew that he wasn’t behaving correctly and had come to his old master for guidance. Although Anakin was no longer his padawan, Obi-Wan would never turn his back on him.

"Unless you intend to retire from the Jedi Order to become your mother's perpetual bodyguard, there's no point in saving her once just to allow her to be threatened again. And again, and again." Obi-Wan stated, rather ruthlessly. "Make a list of every single person who knows that your mom exists and that you are attached enough to be manipulated by a threat to her. I'll start: there's me. There's Padme. There's Sabé. Who else have you told? And who could they have told? Because that's the list of people that you need to go to, to determine who is making the threat."

Anakin had gone white. "Padme would never..."

"Who else knows?"

"You're telling me to list my closest friends as suspects," The sheer horror of that actually seemed to have calmed Anakin down somewhat.

"Yes, I am." Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows again. "I told you before, this is why Jedi don't have attachments." He knew he was being cruel, but not needlessly so. There was reason for refusing attachments and there were consequences for not abiding by that rule.

“And what, you think I’m going to tell you who all my friends are, so that you know who I trust with my secrets?” Anakin burst out with sudden angry suspicion.

Obi-Wan bit back the first couple of responses, starting with, _What?_ And continuing with, _Why had Anakin come to him if he didn’t trust him?_ What exactly did Anakin fear Obi-Wan would do with that information? And just, _what the hell?_ He hadn’t exactly intended to let the silence lengthen, but from the look of awkward mortification on Anakin’s face, the silence communicated Obi-Wan’s thoughts just fine.

When Obi-Wan finally replied, he kept it simple. “You don’t need to tell me who they are. You need to go to each of them, and ask who they, in turn, have told or who might have learned one way or another through them. Track the threat back to the source.”

Anakin was finally calm enough to think it through. “This is a threat, and someone is using the Force to get to me.”

“Yes.”

“It has to be that Sith the Council is searching for.”

“If it’s not, then there are two threats to the Jedi, both capable of manipulating the Force.”

“I get a lot of Force visions, though, you know that. You’ve helped me deal with them for years. How can you know this one is different?”

Obi-Wan really hoped that Anakin’s current denseness was an effect of the vision itself and would go away soon. Because Anakin should have noticed this himself, immediately: “Normal Force visions don’t emotionally manipulate you. Even when they’re traumatic, they buffer you from the impact of what you see. You’ve seen genocides before and came out of those visions calmer than this.”

“But this is my mom.”

“And if the Force needed you to be on Tatooine, I would expect you to have a vision that left you calmly determined to go to Tatooine. The Force would not have sent you a nightmare that left you desperate to do anything, jumping to travel to Tatooine as the first thing that came to your mind.”

Anakin slowly nodded.

“Do you want my assistance questioning your friends?” Obi-Wan asked, already knowing the answer.

“No! I’ll do it myself. I need to do it myself.”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan nodded his understanding, wondering if Anakin realized how blatant it was that his friends knew things about him that he wanted kept secret, and how fragile a security that was. All secrets would come out in the fullness of time. And now was definitely not the time to press for answers.

It was several days later when Anakin approached him again.

“The nightmares stopped. The leak was from the Chancellor’s office. Sheev asked someone to look after my mother, to make sure she was okay. It was a threat against him, not me, because he cared for me. He apologized for dragging me into danger like that. It was a matter of high-level politics and he promised to make sure it got dealt with. I trust him to get it done.”

Obi-Wan took a moment to consider that Anakin trusted a politician, any politician at all, to follow through on their promise. Obi-Wan was friends with Bail Organa of Alderan and Padme Amidala of Naboo, but still wouldn’t blindly trust them to end a threat by a Sith. It was a matter of practicality rather than distrust. But Anakin apparently trusted Sheev Palpatine to that extent. Obi-Wan set the thought aside to consider later.

“I’m assuming you got more than just Chancellor Palpatine’s reassurance that the threat is being neutralized?”

“Of course,” Anakin looked mildly offended, as if he hadn’t just declared his complete trust in the Chancellor’s word. “Sheev’s agent was intercepted by a bounty hunter named Jango Fett.”

“Huh,” Obi-Wan said. Fett’s history with the Death Watch and the disaster on Galidraan had made him a person of interest to the Jedi Council and his reputation as a bounty hunter had maintained that interest. So Obi-Wan actually knew something about Jango Fett as an individual. It wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility for Fett to be involved in a plan of the kidnapping, torture, and death of a civilian woman but it would be unexpected. At the very least, it would have been incredibly expensive. “You want to be assigned a mission to track Fett down?”

Anakin let out a relieved breath, as if Obi-Wan had already agreed. “Yes. Thanks, Obi-Wan!”  

“You’ll need to write up a mission report on your previous investigation for the archives.” Neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin had written up a formal mission assignment for Anakin to investigate the source of his dreams. Obi-Wan was a member of the Jedi Council, and he had directed Anakin on how to deal with the threat, but that was a personal matter rather than a formal mission. Those Jedi who received Force visions generally followed up on those dreams in an unofficial manner until there were results that could be documented in a more official manner.

Anakin hesitated. “I don’t want to get Sheev in trouble with the Council.”

“Just Sheev?” Obi-Wan asked, feeling uncomfortable referring to Chancellor Palpatine by his first name, but Anakin’s easy use of it made him wonder.

Anakin grinned half-heartedly. “Or myself. But I’m mostly resigned to always being in trouble with them.”

“You do remember I’m on the Council myself, right?”

Anakin laughed. “Well, okay, yeah, you’re on the Council, but it’s not… you’re not really… you know what I mean.”

Obi-Wan smiled faintly at that. Yes, he knew exactly what Anakin meant. Obi-Wan was on the council, but he was considered something of a maverick. He had the rights and responsibilities, but not the respect. His voice didn’t have the same weight as any of the other Council members.

He meditated with the Council, reviewed the reports that came in, and offered his perspective, but it was like being assigned as Anakin’s master all over again. Like being given a task that he was expected to fail, and trying to do it anyway, as best he could.

Given how his training of Anakin had ended—without falling to darkness or burning out, but also without any sense of successful completion—he wondered how his time on the Jedi Council would end. Maybe he’d just be gently encouraged to retire at some point. Maybe he’d be assigned to a distant Rim world to maintain one of the Jedi waystations. An honored position, an important position even, but not a vital one and not a risky one. He gathered the melancholy and release it into the Force so he could concentrate on the immediate need.

“For approval to follow-up on the results, to track down Jango Fett, the information from Chancellor Palpatine needs to be officially documented. Once that’s done, I’ll assign you the mission. I’ll assign it to myself as well.”

“Really?” Anakin sounded pleased, which was a nice change from how Anakin’s padawanship had ended, with Anakin desperate for solo missions.

“Really.” Obi-Wan wished he were assigning them a joint mission now just for the pleasure of working with his old padawan again, rather than because he was having a bad feeling about the situation.

“Thanks, Obi-Wan! This will be great!”

Which was clearly a jinx, because the mission was not great at all.

The mission of finding and questioning Fett led them to a hidden planet, Kamino. It seemed increasingly unlikely that Fett had been involved in any threat to Shmi Skywalker, since he was busy being the template for a slave army of clones. A clone army that had apparently been commissioned by a former Jedi Master who’d left the Order years ago.

While Obi-Wan was still trying to wrap his mind around that insanity, another army he’d never heard of before attacked Geonosis, so they’d headed there to help defend it. At least that army was a droid army. The events flowed so seamlessly together that he found himself leading the clone army against the droid army before he could even think beyond the basic tactics. He got caught up in discovering the most effective way to fight the battle that he never had a chance to consider if he _should_ be fighting it.

The battle was won while the struggle for peace was lost, and every bit of information that Obi-Wan had regarding the situation just reinforced how ignorant he was. Ignorance and knowledge went hand in hand, and even the Force couldn’t guide him to a correct path.


	5. Heresy, yet Orthodoxy

When ignorant of what the Force wanted, he must act on his knowledge of what the Force meant. What following the light side of the Force meant. Thus Obi-Wan stood before the Jedi Council and declared with utter certainty, “This _cannot_ be the will of the Force.”

He was so grateful that his voice didn’t shake.

The Force worked in mysterious ways, but _this was not it_. He wondered, though, how much his teaching of Anakin, with his focus on first principles of Jedi philosophy, had set him up for this moment arguing against the full Jedi Council and refusing to back down.

Out of expediency, he had used a slave army to fight a battle and had started a war. It was a devastating mistake. It was not one he was willing to allow to continue.

“The Jedi Order cannot use a clone army and maintain any type of moral authority. It would destroy the very foundations the Order is built upon.”

“That’s more than a bit hypocritical of you, isn’t it?” Jocasta Nu pointed out. “You were the one to use them.”

Obi-Wan refused to back down. “Yes, I did. To my shame, I failed to stand by our shared principles.” He hadn’t stood by his principals and was only now, belatedly, attempting to find some way to stop digging the hole he was in ever deeper. “In the heat of battle, I made the wrong choice. The Jedi Council cannot condone it.”

“We don’t have to condone past actions to deal with present circumstances that arise from those actions. Condemning your actions now would hardly stop the war. We are often faced with hard choices.”

“Condemning my actions now would prevent other Jedi from repeating those actions.”

“The war has begun, and it must be either fought or surrendered. Would you allow the Republic to be destroyed?” Ki-Adi-Mundi said, but meaning: don’t act like a child.

“There is no Death, there is the Force” Obi-Wan said calmly, meaning: fuck you very much.

Ki-Adi-Mundi looked offended: clearly the message had been received. Good.

“Uncertain, the Force is. Logic, we must depend upon.” Yoda attempted to mediate.

“The Force is never uncertain.” Sometimes the Force cared and sometimes it didn’t, but it was never uncertain. That Obi-Wan knew. And he was not willing to be placated on this.

“About the Force, teach me you will, young Kenobi?”

That was a trap if ever there was one. Obi-Wan decided to side-step it entirely. “I request a full meditation on the will of the Force…” It was within the rights of any Jedi to request such a meditation when it came to their missions, and within the rights of a Councilor to demand it for any mission.

“We’ve _already_ meditated deeply on the what to do with the clone army, and the Force has been uncertain.” Oppo Rancisis said with resigned aggravation, as if Obi-Wan needed reminding of those long fruitless meditations.

Obi-Wan ignored the interjection, “… regarding why the Force is shadowed on Coruscant.”

The Council jerked to attention. Or rather three-fourths of the Council did, while Mace merely nodded, and Depa Billaba and Plo Koon looked equally unsurprised. Obi-Wan wondered if Mace had consulted with them, too, or if they had their own independent suspicions. What was particularly concerning was Master Yoda’s surprise.

“Shadowed, you think the Force is?”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan said. There could be no other reason why the Jedi Council would consider using a slave army to be a logical decision.

Master Windu spoke up, “Master Kenobi speaks to my own concerns. Something is dangerously wrong in our connection with the Force. I have not yet brought this to the attention of the Council but I have reason to believe that meditation on the outer rim is more successful than meditation in the core. Coruscant as a whole is shadowed.”

“That is a concerning allegation,” Jocasta Nu stated, without any evidence of actually being concerned by it, “but doesn’t directly address the question of what to do regarding the war that has already started. If we could ask our opponents to pause while we considered different options, we wouldn’t be at war.”

It was, Obi-Wan had to admit, a valid point.

“I am deeply concerned,” Master Yarael Poof said, somewhat more believably, “and we should look into a potential shadowing of the Force, but Master Nu speaks my mind, the galaxy will not wait on us. Until such time as we find a better direction, we must proceed as the Force has led us.” 

“We cannot proceed as if we do not have doubts once those doubts have been raised,” Eeth Koth pointed out.    

“Master Kenobi has already used the clones to start this war. We cannot undo that action because it is retroactively in doubt.” Kit Fisto responded.   
  
“To my shame, yes, I did, and I do not doubt that it was wrong. It is not possible to undo evil done in the past, it is always possible to stop oneself from future evil.”

“Stopped, not all evil can be.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head in acknowledgement of that correction. “I can stop myself from doing _this_ evil.”

The debate continued for another hour before Obi-Wan succeeded in buying himself five days of reprieve. Five days for the Council members to meditate on the shadowing of the Force before the next emergency session to both discuss the results of those meditations and then turn their attention to the use of the clone army and the waging of war.

Obi-Wan stalked out of the council room, releasing his anger to the Force as soon as he’d opened the doors and already focusing on what he had to do. He had a lot of experience releasing anger to the Force. Now it was practically a two-way street: anger going to the Force, while direction came from the Force at the same time.

Even if the Force was clouded here and lacked detailed direction, it still told him enough. It gave him a starting point and he had five days in which to act.

Things he knew were:

  * The clones were of Jango Fett, Mandalorian bounty hunter.
  * The Duchess Satine of Mandalore, his friend and beloved, shared his dedicated to peace.
  * The Force would be less shadowed further from Coruscant.
  * He could be on Mandalore in two days.



He heard Anakin behind him but didn’t bother looking back, only acknowledging his presence by leaving the door open as he went to pack a bag and grab a new cloak.

“You think you can win against the whole Jedi Council?” Anakin asked, looking a bit wild-eyed at the moment.

It took another moment for Obi-Wan to catch the reference.

Just last year, more than a little frustrated after one of his own conflicts with the Council, Anakin had asked him, “How come they listen to you when you argue, but override me when I do?”

“Because I am generally quite obedient. I only argue when it truly matters,” Obi-Wan had replied, more out of intention than truth. He wasn’t entirely sure where Anakin had gotten the idea that the Council generally listened to him.

“It matters every time I argue!”

“Also, I only argue when I think I can win.”

“I only argue when I _should_ win!”

“Do you?” 

“Hmph.”

“Once you have a winning streak, people are more likely to believe you next time. It gives people the impression that your word matters more”

“That’s… really manipulative.”

“… I have literally taught you how to use the Force to manipulate minds. And you think this is manipulative?”

“That’s different. You’re talking about manipulating Jedi!”

“Be very careful with your argument here. There are Jedi and there are non-Jedi, but one is not better than the other, or more deserving of basic respect.”

Obi-Wan made a point of emphasizing that Anakin would still be respected and capable even if he weren’t a Jedi. Anakin made a point of ignoring him whenever he did so.

“So, what’s the plan?”

It was mind-bogglingly flattering that Anakin thought he had a plan for convincing the Council at this point.

“Hmm.” Obi-Wan said. He took a moment to consider the possibilities. He’d been thinking of a one-person mission, but what if it were a two-person mission instead?

Anakin grinned.

“How many of the clones do you think you could meet in person over the next five days, before getting back here in time for the next council session?”

“Definitely several hundred. Maybe a couple of thousand. A hundred thousand if you mean giving a talk to them as a massed army.”

“Not the latter. In person, face-to-face contact.” He grabbed a random tablet off his desk and deleted everything on it, before downloading the list of the clones. After a moment of thought he downloaded a few books as well.

He tossed the tablet to Anakin. “There’s a list of all of the clone designations and basic information, as well as five books of names. Two from Mandalore, two from Jedi history, and one from Stewjon.”

“Stewjon?”

It was an impulse addition but at this point, flying blind with only the vaguest concept of a plan, he was willing to consider such impulses as direction from the Force. He had originally been from Stewjon. If Anakin didn’t know that, then Obi-Wan certainly wasn’t going to tell him now. He ignored the question.

“Go back to Kamino. Meet with as many of the clones as you can, make sure they have names in addition to designations, get a photograph and a signature logged. We need enough of them that it won’t be obvious we didn’t get them all by the time we return.”

“You think humanizing them will convince the Council?”

Anakin was right to sound dubious because it would never work on the Council. “I think humanizing them will help convince the Senate.” And, Obi-Wan didn’t add aloud, it would help the clones themselves. And possibly Jango Fett as well, if things were leading where he thought they might be.

“You’re going to do a run-around on the Council?” Anakin sounded shocked, as well he should be. Anakin had a tendency to get around the Council by requesting favors from his friend the Chancellor. Obi-Wan emphatically disapproved. But he couldn’t exactly deny it because he honestly wasn’t quite sure what he was planning to do right now.

Anakin seemed to take his silence as confirmation though, and his wide grin was not a reassuring response.

“Whoever gets the most signatures wins bragging rights!”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother to correct Anakin’s assumption that he’d be doing the same thing. He had been angry at the Council for promoting Anakin away from him, but now he wondered if maybe it was the will of the Force after all. He had certainly wondered if he could be accused of heresy when Anakin inevitably was discovered breaking whatever rules he chose. Anakin being an independent Knight protected Obi-Wan from that, and now he appreciated the protection it afforded Anakin. He had shaped his life and career around raising Anakin, and he would never risk his padawan by breaking the rules he expected he was now about to. But Obi-Wan was now also an independent Knight, so when he committed his own acts of heresy, Anakin should remain untouched. At least officially.

Anakin was a rule-breaker by nature, but he’d be safe on Kamino, meeting the clones and humanizing them to himself and others.

He called the ship hanger and arranged their two ships for immediate departure. They were both off planet within an hour of leaving the Council Chamber.

He spent the next five days mostly on that ship, first to Mandalore, then to Hapes, and finally back to Coruscant. He traveled as fast as possible, and only spent a few hours on each planet. His communication was by mostly transmission and mostly with Satine.

Even by transmission she had been exactly who he needed. The few hours they had together in person had been a blessing.

She had smiled as she walked with him, and he shared with her all the thoughts he’d had swirling around in his head. Together, they winnowed them down to what was possible and what was not. This, Obi-Wan thought, was what attachment should be: not a chain wrapped around him and leading to her side, but a safety net below him, ready to catch him when he lost his balance.

“I always knew you were dedicated, but I am continually surprised by how you manage to accomplish your goals.”

“Thank you, Duchess,” Obi-Wan said with true feeling. “You have offered me so much…”

She wasn’t smiling anymore, but her kindness and devotion to the light still shone through her. “I do not sacrifice anything of mine for the support I give you. Mandalore will win however this plays out, as you are aware. I am concerned, though, that you will lose, however this plays out.”

“You think I’ll lose?”

“I think you’ll achieve your goals, but that you make no consideration for your happiness.”

Obi-Wan remained silent. She wasn’t wrong, but she also wasn’t right. He would find satisfaction if he managed to save the clones from being a slave army and save the Jedi from making use of those slaves. And what was happiness if not satisfaction at a job well done?

He was betraying the Jedi Order, but he was fairly sure he was defending the Jedi faith.

There was even precedent for that, although mostly in the schisms. 

When he finally tracked Jango Fett down on Hapes and managed to forestall immediate attack, the bounty hunter laughed in his face at his offer but then carefully studied the contract Satine had drafted for them and agreed to go along with the plan. Obi-Wan was fairly sure the bounty hunter had been smirking behind his mask as they signed the contract before witnesses.

Obi-Wan’s ship landed on Coruscant at the exact moment his Council session was scheduled to begin, so he Force ran over the rooftops back to the temple and managed to get there just in time to save the session from being canceled. 

"Since Master Kenobi is not here and he's the one who called this emergency session for an hour before our next emergency session on the war, I move that..." Jocasta Nu was saying as Obi-Wan blew in.

"My deepest apologies for the delay." He spoke calmly, for all that his robes were still swirling around him, making it blindingly obvious he'd been Force running. "My shuttle only just landed."

"Your shuttle," Mace stated.

"Yes, my shuttle."

"You were not given permission to leave the temple."

"This emergency session is scheduled to deal with several items, my un-permitted departure among them."

"You scheduled the meeting before you departed."

"I have updated the official agenda, but it would be a benefit to go over it together. Shall we do so now?"

Mace was not the only one looking annoyed at that bit of brazenness.

It was the last record that Obi-Wan had submitted over the last few days and he had submitted a massive number of them. Luckily personnel files were not generally reviewed quickly, and as a Council Member himself, he’d been able to file the forms directly into the archive, bypassing some of the review stages.

Mace gave a deep sigh and gave in. "Proceed."

"To get some of the preliminary administrative work out of the way, I must inform you that Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi resigned from the Jedi Order five days ago, _without_ similarly resigning from the Jedi Council,” Obi-Wan started. He’d actually only filed that paperwork a few hours ago, but had carefully backdated it, so that everything would fall into the correct order of things. He spoke over the initial uproar to explain, “There is precedent for non-Jedi to be on the Jedi Council.”

It was from several thousand years ago, but it was still a precedent.

“That is not what--”

But Obi-Wan wasn’t going to let this derail from his plan, because there were significantly more stages to this little process that he needed to inform the Council of. “Three days ago, private citizen Obi-Wan Kenobi made formal Mandalorian partnership with bounty hunter Jango Fett, taking on all debts and responsibilities of his as my own. One day ago, private citizen Obi-Wan Fett née Kenobi, sued Kamino for full rights to all of Jango Fett's issue. Until such time as that suit is either accepted or rejected by due process of law, to ensure fairness before the law, temporary guardianship is held by Duchess Satine of Mandalore.” And admittedly, those events had been arranged in a very different order, but the paperwork was certainly dated in the way he was describing it.

“This morning, Jedi Council member Obi-Wan Fett Kenobi accepted private citizen Obi-Wan Fett Kenobi's request for admittance into the Jedi order, allowing for his guardianship of all beings to remain. I stand before you now, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Fett Kenobi.”

And there he was. He bowed to the Council and allowed himself a small relieved smile. “You will find the archives have been updated with all appropriate paperwork regarding these events."

The initial uproar had been squashed by Obi-Wan’s continued flow of words, and now they just stared at Obi-Wan. Anakin was trying so hard not to giggle that he was in danger of rupturing an internal organ.

_‘Release it into the Force, Anakin,’_ Obi-Wan sent directly into Anakin’s mind. A squeak made it past Anakin’s lips before he got his breath under control again.

"That is the most bantha-shit bureaucratic nonsense I've ever heard." Mace sounded impressed.

"Adopt adult sentients, you may not, without their consent."

"Knight Skywalker has their individual signatures of agreement." Obi-Wan explained as he made his way over to his chair and sat down, suppressing a relieved sigh from getting off his feet.

"Uh..." Anakin said. He had signatures: Obi-Wan had tracked his process on the tablet. But none of the clones had known what they were signing. Anakin hadn't known what they were signing and he'd been the one collecting signatures. That sort of informed consent was something that Obi-Wan always took extremely seriously and had done his best to make Anakin take seriously as well. Not to mention that Anakin had less than three percent of their signatures. It had only been five days and two hundred thousand clones.

"Know what they were signing, they did not." Master Yoda said, relieving Anakin from having to accuse Obi-Wan himself. Though, really, Anakin needed to learn better to stand by his principles and not let Obi-Wan or anyone else, trample upon them.

"Yes," Obi-Wan agreed readily enough. "They may appear to be over the age of consent, but they do not have the life experience or training to actually consent in any meaningful fashion. However, if you do not accept their consent in this, then you cannot accept their consent to be soldiers of the Jedi Order."

"What exactly are you hoping to get out of this, Kenobi?"

"The question now before the Jedi Council is what to do in the case of Obi-Wan Kenobi-Fett and my two hundred thousand dependents. The Council can override my admittance to the Order and my presence on the Council, but it cannot end my guardianship. If I am in the Jedi Order, then the Jedi Order has responsibility for two hundred thousand non-Force-sensitive children raised in an barbaric manner, and will immediately revert to emergency mode to assist in ensuring their ability to consent to future plans. If I am not in the Jedi Order, I will immediately take myself and my two hundred thousand dependents to Mandalore and apply for citizenship there, giving my allegiance to the Duchess Satine."

"Mandalore?!" Anakin interrupted, aghast, which was an unexpected reaction. "Mandalore! They should go to Naboo! If you and the clones are going to any planet, then it should absolutely be Naboo." He spoke with certainty, as if Naboo was clearly the only correct planet to have allegiance to.

Obi-Wan found himself side-eying his old padawan for that. "Mandalore is their birthright."

"But _you_ should be on Naboo!"

"...I'm originally from Stewjon." Obi-Wan mentioned, still wondering where this was going.

The rest of the council were clearly just as bewildered by this tangent. "Exactly where Master Kenobi would wind up is not the issue at hand here, Knight Skywalker."

"It should be!"

"It also, Knight Skywalker, sounds remarkably like you have an attachment to a single planet."

"Of course I'm attached, my wife is their senator!" Anakin looked a bit aghast at his own words. Obi-Wan reflected that he should have worked harder on him gaining control over his own words; a proper Jedi did not just blurt out secrets. He was annoyed by the revelation that Anakin had married, but was ultimately relieved that Anakin’s transgression was so benign. Anakin would be thrown out of the Jedi Order, of course, but he’d have a home and family to go to when that happened.

Anakin had even managed to buy himself some time with his revelation, since Obi-Wan doubted anyone on the Council was going to bother dealing with Anakin’s attachment until after they’d dealt with Obi-Wan and the clones. At least Anakin had married a respectable woman friendly with the Jedi, rather than a bounty hunter who hated Jedi. Although Obi-Wan also expected Anakin’s marriage was intended to be significantly more all-encompassing than Obi-Wan’s own extremely specific and detailed marriage contract.

While the rest of the Jedi Council all started yelling, Obi-Wan spoke to Anakin through the Force. _‘I must remember to select an appropriate wedding present.’_

He could feel Anakin’s relief at that response.

Mace finally shouted everyone down. “We are not going to derail the discussion of clones and civil war and the shadowing of the Force to focus on a single knight’s indiscretion! Skywalker, sit down and shut up. Everyone else, sit down and pay attention.”

After that, the council meeting quieted down and focused, and it was a testament to what they were that they could bring such concentration to bear on the issues at hand.

It was a grueling ten-hour session but they accomplished a great deal.

The Clones they left to Obi-Wan, agreeing that he was within his rights to claim them under his protection. Or at least, that publicly arguing his right to protect a large number of sentients would be hideously embarrassing for the Order -- significantly more embarrassing than just going with it and claiming that it was the Jedi way.

They also left it to him to inform the Senate of that decision, mostly as punishment but also as an object lesson in dealing with one’s own messes. Obi-Wan had assumed that he’d be the one informing the Senate anyway, and appreciated having control in how the situation was presented. It also saved him the need to explain the whole complex legal side of the guardianship dispute well enough to someone else that they could then explain it to the Senate. The fewer layers of explanation this went through, the less likely it was to get completely mixed up.

They all ignored Anakin’s rather gleeful murmur of, “this is going to be amazing!”

Without the clones as a ready-made army, the Jedi were simply too few to fight the war, and would bow out entirely. That too, would fall on Obi-Wan to inform the Senate. Obi-Wan was just as happy that they weren’t turning their temple into a war machine, but it took several hours of hashing out all the possible ways that the Jedi could lead a war in order to determine the reasons why none of them would actually work.

Master Depa Billaba summed it up best, “We don’t have the numbers, we don’t have a clear goal, and we don’t have the backing of the Force. That should be enough. We shouldn’t have to excuse ourselves to the Senate. We’re a religious order! We don’t obey the Senate, they take council with us!”

That got more than a few nods of agreement.

Even Mace flashed a quick grin. “I don’t suggest that you lead with that, but it might be worth highlighting the fact that we’re a religious order.” Mace sighed, “which brings us to the third thing we need to address, because it’s possible that we ourselves have overlooked our religious nature too long, focusing on the practical and the political. There’s clear evidence that the Force around Coruscant is tainted. What are we going to do about it?”

Which started a whole new fight because some of the councilors believed in the taint and some didn’t, and the ones who did wanted to do something drastic and the ones that didn’t thought the whole situation was calling a breath a gale. No one wanted to even consider moving the whole Order off of Coruscant, not least because it would be running away from the darkness rather than fighting it. Also, because it would be a major hassle. The temple has been around for thousands of years. But was there a point in even searching for darkness if there was nothing they could do about it anyway?

That last comment got a particularly cold glare from Master Yoda. “Never wasted, knowledge is. Thrive in ignorance, darkness does.”

Which then led to everyone trying to figure out how to conclusively confirm or deny a taint of darkness in the Force that a third of the councilors couldn’t feel.

It was Master Eeth Koth who suggested the solution of simply running a grid search for a source of darkness. “As much as we Jedi like an elegant solution, sometimes the only way to get an answer is to do the drudge work of searching. If the Temple is not going to war, then the Jedi Knights already assigned to various outposts are available instead to run a massive search pattern for us. Let’s call them back with instructions to return in small jumps, meditating at intervals all the way back, with a focus on the clarity of the Force. If it gets harder for them to see clearly in the Force as they approach Coruscant, then we have an answer. If it doesn’t, then we have more people to brainstorm ideas for what is happening.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine trying to organize that, and Mace was grimacing at the thought, but the more they worked on it, the more plausible it seemed. Obi-Wan counted himself lucky for already having been assigned Senate duty, just to avoid anything to do with that search.

Anakin was being remarkably quiet, not to say fading completely into the background, about the whole thing too. If he were smart, he’d be playing least-in-sight for a while.

Sadly, Anakin did not appear to want to play it smart and instead decided that sticking to Obi-Wan’s side was the best option. At least he was a decent guide to the Senate building, given how much time he had apparently spent there, not only with his friend the Chancellor, but also with his wife the Senator.

Eventually they’d need to discuss that and Anakin’s future plans, but for now, he wasn’t unhappy having some companionship at the Senate, to guard his back if nothing else.

The Senate was not likely to hold Obi-Wan in very high esteem after this. He would not be surprised at all if there were a few amateur spur-of-the-moment assassination attempts.

"We need the soldiers to defend against the Separatists!" There was a roar of approval from the crowd.

Obi-Wan waited for the roaring to die down. "A clone army can’t possibly be necessary: you’ve never had one before and you don’t have one now. In addition, it is within the rights of any planet to secede from the Republic if they so desire. The Republic hardly needs an army they’ve never needed before to prevent planets from exercising their rights.”

“The planets are being attacked! The Separatists are stealing our planets and you want to pretend that it’s all done willingly?!?”

“I’m merely pointing out that pirates and mercenaries trying to steal whole planets is not actually a new threat, and most solar systems have their own militias for just such occasions. The Republic has always been structured as a way to allow planets to share resources and there’s no reason those militias can’t be a shared resource as well.”

“You would have us beg and scrape for small town guards rather than use a ready-made army!”

“I would have us avoid committing war crimes.” Obi-Wan bit back saying that any government that couldn’t defend itself without committing war crimes wasn’t a government worth maintaining.

"Master Jedi, you must be aware that the Separatists have an army of drones that we cannot match. Their drones are created by the millions. Our planetary defenses cannot hold up against a mass attack.”

"There is a reason we don't use drones in our army. They can be mass produced certainly, but they can also be hacked. Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker is the Jedi's foremost expert in drone creation, maintenance and rehabilitation. He will be leading a team made of volunteer civilians from the Coruscant university engineering department to rehabilitate the militant drones, adding ethical considerations to their coding."

Anakin managed to keep his face impassive as Obi-Wan threw him to the wolves, although Obi-Wan could feel the spike of mixed panic and glee from his former padawan. Hopefully the civilian hackers in Anakin’s little group would keep their mouths shut about not having any official status in their previous forays into this type of work. And giving Anakin the task of hacking the droid army would also postpone any response the Council could make regarding Anakin’s marriage.

"He'd take them over and giving us a drone army?"

"Certainly not. He'll give them free-will.”

Anakin looked distinctly guilty for a moment before he regained his impassivity. Had he really thought that Obi-Wan hadn’t found and read the manifesto he’d written when he was fourteen under a pseudonym? Privacy in the Jedi temple was mostly about not reacting; it was almost never about not knowing.

“We as Jedi do not subjugate people, nor does the Republic allow for slavery. We will not demand our enemies disarm entirely anymore than we would demand our allies do so. One of the symbols of a Jedi is our lightsabers. Everyone has violence in them, just as everyone has peace. We are simply ensuring that the Separatists and the Republic are on even ground for their armies: we must both treat with soldiers who are individuals and subject to freewill."

"You cannot do that!"

"I have found that I can."

The Supreme Chancellor was practically hissing when he said, "The Jedi acts in the interests of the Republic and of the chancellorship. To disobey me is treason."

"I am a Jedi. It is my culture and my religion. But if it comes to pass that I no longer have a place in the Jedi Order of the Republic, then I and my two hundred thousand dependents will leave and go to Mandalore and place ourselves under the direction of the Duchess Satine Kryze. Senator Tal Merrik of Mandalore can speak more on that alternative."

Obi-Wan hadn’t had time to consult with Senator Merrik himself, but Satine had promised to brief him. The senator had the look of thrilled horror that spoke well of how that briefing had gone.

Obi-Wan spent the next week mostly repeating the same thing over and over again. Also going on the occasional filibusters as he named his new dependents. It turned out that no politician was willing to sit through Obi-Wan reciting the names of two hundred thousand clones, and none of them tested Obi-Wan’s dedication and willingness to do so by waiting more than two thousand names. And since he had three thousand names memorized from Anakin’s list, there was a nice amount of leeway. So whenever he needed a break, he’d start reciting them, which would consistently inspire someone else to call a recess to the session.

Meanwhile Anakin alternated between sticking to his side like glue and making gleeful posts to the forums, fanning the flames of whatever meme Obi-Wan’s latest senatorial session was currently being turned into.

Obi-Wan had expected Anakin to be unhappy that his reputation as a great Jedi Knight held in high esteem by the Grand Chancellor himself was being supplanted by one as a beleaguered Padawan putting up with Master Kenobi. Anakin, however, seemed genuinely delighted by it.

“I told them! They didn’t believe me when I said you had impossible standards!”

“I don’t have impossible standards.”

“You just adopted two hundred thousand clones and are facing down both the Jedi Council and the Senate! You don’t get to claim you have regular standards!”

“I admit that it’s an unusual solution to the problem, but it’s hardly a matter of impossible standards.”

“You really, really do and the rest of the Galaxy agrees with me!”

“I don’t have time to argue with you about this.”

“I’m not trying to argue with you, I’m just pleased that my experiences are being validated! Also check out these!” He showed Obi-Wan the latest comedy sketch quoting him regarding his two hundred thousand dependents, and the latest rebellion using “I have found that I can” as a rallying cry.

Obi-Wan continued to eye his former padawan a bit askance. For all of his complaints, Anakin seemed more pleased than not by the whole situation.

Anakin, previously somewhat recalcitrant on such research assignments, began regularly following the news. And the news was suddenly full of interviews with people who knew Obi-Wan, of which there were an unusually high number for a Jedi Councilor. Most high-ranking Jedi stuck to the temples. The galaxy was soon aware that Obi-Wan was quite active in his local communities, and well-known as a person who thought outside the box. And for all that he had previously appeared to be extremely rule bound, the people who knew him were like, I think he learns the rules just so that he knows the best ways to break them.

“He breaks rules we didn't even realize were rules!”

“Sometimes we’ll forget he’s actually a real Jedi, and then he reminds us and it’s terrifying.”

“He is, I think, what every Jedi should strive to be: irreverent in his reverence; humble in his certainty.”

“I was worried at first, about a Jedi in the classroom, but he was quickly just another student. Even when we were kind of acting out, he’d just offer these dry little suggestions egging us on.”

Apparently the galaxy had previously considered him to be humorless and rule-bound and now thought he was an utterly hilarious wildcard. Obi-Wan honestly wasn’t sure what to make of either reputation.

Obi-Wan spent most of his days with the Senate, and the media and paparazzi surrounding him at least worked to the benefit of the Jedi temple at large. His current infamy distracted notice from the current turmoil throughout the whole temple regarding the shadow in the Force.

The Jedi recalled from around the galaxy were reporting back increased difficulty accessing the Force the closer they got to Coruscant. Upon arriving at Coruscant, rather than landing, they went into orbit, triangulating the source via scores of Jedi in meditation outlining a sphere around the whole planet.

By the time they were doing that, not even Obi-Wan’s infamy could mask that the Jedi were up to something.

“The media is going wild, what in the world are the Jedi doing?”

Obi-Wan ignored it as best he could and deflected as needed.

It wasn’t until the orbiting Jedi started landing that he allowed himself to be concerned. Because they were landing at the temple port and then arching out again to surround Galactic City. Anakin had patched his communicator into the search network and heared updates from a hundred different Jedi pairs taking turns meditating and reorienting themselves, working their way from the outside of the city inwards.

Between two meetings, Anakin pulled him aside to give him an update.

“They’re moving slowly and being careful to avoid any chance of error. That’s why they’re not going faster,” Anakin told him, like he was still a youngling in the temple, needing to explain in order to confirm he understand.

“They’re trying to pinpoint a single source, having started from the Outer Rim of the galaxy,” Obi-Wan pointed out with some amusement. “Within a week, they’ve narrowed down to a city. That’s not a slow search.”

“It is a slow search because they’re now stopping every couple of miles to double check what they already know,” Anakin argued back with some validity. “But they need to be absolutely sure because their circle is centered around the Senate building.”

Obi-Wan shut his eyes for a moment, not to meditate but just to remind himself that this was not his mission. There were several hundred different Jedi out there being actively guided by several members of the Jedi Council. They were more than capable of fulfilling their task, and Obi-Wan needed to focus on his own task of defending the rights of the clone soldiers he had adopted.

“Shit,” he finally said.

“Yeah,” Anakin agreed.

But there was nothing they could do about the knowledge that they were probably sharing a building with a source of darkness capable of tainting the Force itself around a whole planet. So they went to Obi-Wan’s next meeting, where the senators wondered, yet again, what Anakin was actually doing there since Jedi Master Kenobi has previously declared that Jedi Knight Skywalker would be leading the charge in hacking the Separatist’s droid army.

Frankly, Obi-Wan was wondering that himself. Anakin was clearly in contact with is hacker group via tablet but didn’t appear to be doing any of the serious coding or hacking himself. But Anakin had brushed him off with a rather snide, “I’m following the will of the Force and you really can’t ask more of me than that.”

Instead, Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows at the latest person to ask, and said rather pointedly, “We are awaiting Senate approval of the new plan. Approval that is taking a remarkably long time to arrive despite there not being any reasonable alternatives.”

“Other than a clone army.”

“I specified reasonable. A slave army is never a reasonable alternative, as you are quite well aware. And, more to the point, as your constituents are quite well aware.”

In the meantime, the Separatists attacked more planets but almost performatively, like the bad guys in a vid, rather than anything practical to win true independence. While those attacks hadn’t helped the Senate’s opinions of Obi-Wan and his obstruction of their use of an army, it had done wonders to inspire local planetary militia to fight off the attacks themselves. It was an odd situation and Obi-Wan couldn’t figure out what their play even was.

Obi-Wan grieved for the victims of those attacks but stood by his decision to not contribute even more victims.

The hardest part of the meetings, Obi-Wan thought, was trying not to sound like he was saying everything by rote even when he was saying the exact same thing for the hundredth time. There were some ten thousand planets in the Republic? Please let him not have to meet with every single one of them, he pushed his prayer out to the Force.

Hopefully it was purely coincidence that the very next moment, every communicator in the room of his latest meeting started beeping, apprising each of the senators and senatorial aids and hospitality staff members that the whole building had been put into lock-down. If there was an emergency that required immediate egress, there was a number you could contact. Otherwise, occupants were requested to wait where they were for Jedi escort out of the building.

Somehow being confined to the building that they had all intended to stay in for the next several hours anyway caused several of the participants to wish to immediately leave. Obi-Wan was fairly sure he wasn’t the only participant who thought they might as well continue the meeting. But enough of the other participants wanted it postponed that the meeting was concluded and everyone was free to focus entirely on worrying.

Sadly, Obi-Wan was as free to worry as everyone else.

Anakin was nearly vibrating with the need to do something.

There was likely a Sith Master in the building, one powerful and subtle enough to raise to great power without ever being identified by the Jedi Temple.

“Where’s Padme?” The words were out of his mouth before he’d fully thought them through. He would blame his old padawan on that indiscretion. Anakin’s jitters ratcheted up a notch and there was real anguish in his voice. “Here. Two floors below us. I can feel her presence.”

Obi-Wan vaguely thought that Anakin would not appreciate that he was less worried about Padme as about Anakin’s emotional response to that danger. He kept his response to a nod. After some consideration, “I think it might be best for you to find her and escort her out of the building.”

“Are you sure?” Anakin was halfway to the door when he paused. “But what about you?”

“I’ll wait to be cleared with everyone else.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go.”

Anakin was gone and Obi-Wan exhaled a slow breath of relief. Anakin would find Padme and get them both out of the building. Anakin knew so many of the beings who worked in this building, senators and maintenance staff alike. Obi-Wan did not want to see what happened if he were confronted by the Sith being someone he knew.

At least Obi-Wan knew with utter certainty, given their original meeting on Tatooine, that Padme was not the Sith Master.

Although, as he let his mind wander a bit down the logical possibilities, it was within feasibility that the Sith Master would have recruited her as it’s new apprentice. It would even make a certain amount of twisted sense, and any evidence against it could be manufactured. Even her marriage to Anakin could be due to the Sith’s influence, since she broke her own social mores as much as Anakin had in that relationship. A forbidden attachment between two powerful individuals with connections to their own powerful communities would made a handy bit of leverage for any unscrupulous politician, much less a Sith Lord.

Yes, it was possible, but he wasn’t concerned about allowing Anakin to collect Padme on his own. Just because a threat was possible didn’t mean it was true. Padme wouldn’t be the half the politician she was if she was not also capable of being a threat.

And he just didn’t believe it was true. Padme, even more than Anakin, knew the other beings who worked in this building. She had an even higher chance of feeling personal betrayal when, or if, someone was identified. He hoped that both Padme and Anakin got out safely and had at least a standard chance at a happy civilian life.

Obi-Wan waited in his chair and rested, preparing as best he could for whatever was to come.

He expected he would either be sent back to the temple as cleared, or conscripted into the search to spend the next several hours checking people for dark influences. He got the later.

What he hadn’t expected was for Master Fidem to approach him and explain that the searchers consisted of all the Jedi who had spent the least time on Coruscant. They were from the furthest reaches of the Outer Rim, with the intent that they would be the least affected by the corruption discovered here in the core. They understood the intent. It was a good thought. But no one had asked their opinions on the matter, and none of them were up to date on core world politics, much less at this refined level. More to the point, none of them wanted to tell the Supreme Chancellor himself that he needed to get checked out by a Jedi mind healer.

Or, as it turned out, none of them wanted to be the one to _insist_ that the Supreme Chancellor get checked out by a Jedi mind healer after the Supreme Chancellor had refused the first time.

Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had a connection to the former Senator from Naboo, Master Fidem had recalled. Surely, then, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi could leverage their history together to get the Chancellor to comply.

Obi-Wan bowed his acceptance of that task because he wasn’t sure what would happen if he actually opened his mouth. He wasn’t sure if he would scream or just throw up.

Plenty of other politicians also refused to be scanned for darkness, and they were currently being held under suspicious of corruption, but Obi-Wan couldn’t quite manage to group Sheev Palpatine in with that number. While the search had identified many people who had serious taints, they hadn’t yet found the source of that taint. And once he started thinking about Palpatine in reference to the Sith, the more probable it seemed. That didn’t make it true, he had to remind himself.

Palpatine was a successful politician who, by the nature of his job, carried many secrets. The fact that he had been on the periphery of several of the events involving the Sith and had risen to power along a timeline that mirrored the rise of the Sith, didn’t prove anything. It just added probability.

He kept his face impassive as he went off to confront one of the most powerful beings in the Republic, now suspected of being even more powerful not to mention also overwhelmingly malicious. And Obi-Wan had to face him.

After a few steps, he turned back to Master Fidem, “Are we monitoring and recording the security cameras in place? The Chancellor’s rooms will have their own closed system.”

Master Fidem had his own impassive face on, to hide discomfort, concern or fear, or a combination of all of the above. “I believe so, but I’ll ensure it.”

“Thank you.”

Obi-Wan made his way to the Chancellor’s rooms, not allowing himself to dawdle but certainly not actively rushing. There were a variety of approaches he could take. In the end, he settled on, “Sir, there is evidence that you have been tainted by the Sith. We need to ensure that you have been cleansed of such a taint.”

It was even, Obi-Wan suspected, going to turn out to be true. The Sith had not just tainted the Force, but the sentient beings around it.

“I’m really quite busy right now, and this search of yours has increased that workload rather than diminished it. I am trying my best to accomodate you Jedi, but I cannot be at your beck and call.”

“I’m sorry, Sir, but you really do need to come with me now.”

“I am the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. I do not _need_ to do anything.”

“Yes, Sir. But the fact that you are the Supreme Chancellor makes it all the more concerning that someone else could be controlling you. We can ensure that you are freely yourself and making decisions based on your own thoughts and desires rather than an invasive Sith taint.”

“That is hardly necessary, dear boy.” Palpatine was gritting his teeth. The video of this confrontation would hopefully hold up, keeping Obi-Wan innocent, whether or not Palpatine proved to be the Sith. If he wasn’t the Sith, Obi-Wan needed to be polite. If he was the Sith, Obi-Wan needed him to reveal himself, to attack first. Obi-Wan couldn’t be seen to draw a weapon on the unarmed head of the Galactic Republic, suspected Sith or not.

“Sheev! I’m so glad that you’re alright!” Anakin came bounding in, and Obi-Wan flinched.

“Anakin, dear boy! I’m so glad to see you. Come tell your master that I am not a Sith.”

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin frowned at him. “Of course Sheev isn’t a Sith! What are you doing?” And now Anakin had his lightsaber in his hand, although not on, and was standing between Obi-Wan and Palpatine.

That action, not on Palpatine’s part but on Anakin’s, was revealing.

Obi-Wan considered the question of what he had been doing and realized that apparently what he’d been doing was allowing a Sith unrestricted access to his padawan for years. It was a harsh blow. He refused to flinch again. He merely looked at the pseudo-Sith apprentice who was his beloved brother Jedi and said, with absolute truth, “I never accused Chancellor Palpatine of being a Sith. I am deeply concerned, however, by the Sith taint we are finding on these floors of the senate building. You got Padme safely out before coming back, right? Is she okay? Please, convince your friend to allow us to check him as well.”

“Oh,” Anakin blinked, and suddenly seemed to notice that he had his lightsaber in his hand. He seemed confused when he put it back on his belt. “Sheev, of course you need to get checked out. Nothing is more important than your safety. Padme got checked out as well. She said it hadn’t felt like anything was wrong, but once the healer was helping her, it was like getting out of a corset and she could suddenly breath freely. It helped her a lot.”

Palpatine grimaced. “Alas, dear boy, there are many important issues of the galaxy that do need to come before my own health.”

Obi-Wan wanted to grin in triumph. That was exactly the wrong argument to make to Anakin, which Obi-Wan knew from personal experience.

Sure enough, Anakin, was adamant, “No, Sheev! Your health comes first. After all, you won’t be able to accomplish anything if you’re dead!”

“This is hardly a matter of dying.”

Obi-Wan interjected, “In many ways constriction of thought is more vicious than even mortal wounds. To be a slave in your own thoughts, corrupted and directed by Sith threats, is no life to live.”

Anakin looked wild at the very thought. Palpatine glared at Obi-Wan for that particular turn of phrase, because it convinced Anakin of his side. Or at least, on the side of helping Palpatine be free of Sith taint rather than protecting him from Obi-Wan.

“You absolutely need to come.”

“And who, exactly, would be clearing such taint from me?” Palpatine asked. “Surely you cannot expect me to allow the Jedi Council such unrestricted access to my mind.”

Palpatine definitely won that argument. Obi-Wan really wished he’d been able to foster just a bit more trust between Anakin and the Jedi Council. It was ludicrous how fraught their relationship was. Although, upon consideration of Anakin’s apparent friendship with an alleged Sith Master, perhaps there was reason for suspicion on both sides. He really should have meditated more deeply on the reason for the suspicion rather than assuming it was a holdover from Anakin’s original experience with them as a child.

“I agree with Sheev, Obi-Wan. The Jedi Council aren’t to be trusted here.”

Obi-Wan really wished Anakin hadn’t said that on camera where the records would almost certainly be reviewed at some later point. It could be a serious problem then. But for now, it might actually help set up an even better trap for the Sith.

“While I do trust our Council, I can understand you being wary of allowing any stranger to review your mind, Chancellor Palpatine. Normally only a mind healer would review your mind, but perhaps you’d be more comfortable if Anakin did it. I can walk him through the process.”

Palpatine’s eyes flickered briefly, but he now seemed calm as well. He and Obi-Wan studied each other briefly. Anakin said, “Of course, I can do that. I watched what the healer did with Padme. I promise I’ll be super careful, Sheev, and you know I can keep secrets.”

“Yes,” Palpatine said, “I know you can. Of course I trust you. Let us do that.”

Obi-Wan refused to let this be a viable threat. It was a gamble on both their parts, really, on Palpatine and Obi-Wan’s, to see who Anakin would side with once he’d felt the evidence with his own senses. And Palpatine had the advantage of a hostage, too, in Anakin. But Obi-Wan had walked into dangerous situations before, and it was not the Jedi way to allow a threat to another Jedi sway one from what needed to be done.

Anakin would fall or rise on his own strengths. He’d been knighted, albeit against Obi-Wan’s wishes. This would be a true Knighthood trial for him, let him be tempered or broken here and now. This was certainly stupidly catastrophically dangerous enough.

Obi-Wan lowered his eyes before Palpatine and thought that the Sith probably assumed it was an action of submission. It wasn't. It was an action of dismissal.

Palpatine had somehow gotten a hook into Anakin. Anakin had multiple vulnerabilities that Obi-Wan hadn't been able to find and help him protect before the Sith had found them. Of course, he'd had access to Anakin before Obi-Wan had even been knighted, must less been given guardianship of Anakin. Master Qui-Gon had still been alive when the then Senator of Naboo had first been introduced to both Obi-Wan and Anakin. He wondered if that excuse would ever help. Because he'd known from the very beginning that Anakin was at greater risk from having not been raised since infancy in the temple.

Blame and incrimination would have to wait. Now, there was simply the fact of the matter: Palpatine had hooked Anakin. And he was using that hook to pull Obi-Wan in, as well, through his love for Anakin. If he caught Obi-Wan, he'd use that to pull in someone greater in the Jedi temple, and just keep going. The only way to stop it was to refuse the attachment. To let go of those who had fallen and let them fall or rise on their own. Jedi went on missions alone, they rose and fell alone. As padawans, they were protected and taught and bound to their masters, but as knights they were released from those bindings and kept only by their oaths. There would be no chain of Jedi pulling each other down like an unmoored anchor.

A Master could sometimes use a training bond as counterbalance, to pull a falling Padawan back into the light. But Anakin was no longer his padawan and it was his responsibility as a knight to sear any such dark stain from himself, offering no harm to other Jedi.

Obi-Wan had a heart of hard stone, he told himself. Or at least a heart of scar tissue and calluses. There were no places for hooks here. The only way to mitigate the damage was to have faith in his former padawan.

"The others are out of the building right now, so there's no reason Anakin can't simply scan you here and now, in your waiting area with the comfortable chairs," and cameras recording every second of it, "and allow you to return to your work as quickly as possible."

Palpatine slowly nodded his agreement. This was a high stakes gamble. All or nothing, in the seat of Palpatine's power, but at Obi-Wan's timing. It was a fair gamble, as such things went, for the soul of a Jedi Knight and the future of a galaxy. "Very well."

"I will walk you through the meditation, Anakin. It is not an easy one."

"I can do it!"

"You cannot cut corners on this. Your friend's freedom depends upon it." And wasn't that an awful thing to say, given that he suspected Anakin's friend was a pure illusion created by a Sith Lord, and there was nothing left to save. “You must be careful and you must be thorough.”

"I will." Anakin spoke seriously.

"First, you will need to sense the darkness saturating this building. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah,” Anakin mourned. “I’ve been in and out of this building for years and it wasn’t until I spoke with Master Fidem and Master Healer Glasveil that I was able to sense it.”

Obi-Wan nodded. It was a hard thing to discover that they had missed such a pervasive threat for so long. It was helpful that Anakin had figured out the technique, at least.

“Since you can identify the darkness in the setting, you should be able to differentiate it from the darkness in a given person.”

“That shouldn’t be hard,” Anakin readily agreed. Obi-Wan reminded himself that self-assurance was actually beneficial in these circumstances. “And I watched how Master Glasveil scanned Padme.”

“Excellent. Then the next step is to scan me. This will ensure that you have the technique right, will give you experience seeing what a sentient being looks like in the light, and test me for the presence of darkness.”

"Obi-Wan...?"

“Everyone has darkness in them, Anakin. Even Jedi. It is not a part of myself that I care for, and certainly not a part that I foster. But it’s there. It’s what makes us vulnerable to falling, but also what makes us capable of empathy with those who struggle against it. So find it in me, but know that it is not something I enjoy showing to others, so be respectful.”

“Okay.” Anakin agreed but still hesitated.

Rather than ask Anakin what the problem was--he really didn’t want to discuss any problem Anakin had in front of Palpatine or while being recorded--he continued, “After you scan me, you’ll do the same to the Chancellor. Do not look for reasons or details, just find it and ensure that any darkness is not of foreign origin and does not connect to anyone else. Search for the light and ensure it stands alone and independent of taint or influence.”

Palpatine was listening intensely and consideringly. Obi-Wan kind of wished he were scanning Palpatine himself if only to satisfy his own curiosity about what was going on in the man’s mind.

“Okay.” Anakin agreed again. “Okay, you need to lower your shields.”

Obi-Wan took a calming breath and then lowered his shields. With a Sith Lord in the room and his likely tainted padawan before him, he lowered every barrier and stood there naked as he’d ever been for all that he was still fully clothed. This was the Jedi way, after all, they act in the light and they do not accept the deceptive shelter of the darkness.

He stood bare in the light of the Force and allowed the Force to permeate his being, to comfort him in its presence as he felt Anakin examining his innermost being. He could feel the attention on the dark parts of his soul, the shame and the anger, the fear and the doubt. He desperately wanted to hide them away from prying eyes, but he refused. He refused to let such thoughts direct him. He breathed through it until, like pressure on a knotted muscle, the shame gave way. The anger, fear, and doubt were old wounds that he struggled with always, but the shame at least he could reject.

He stared over his padawans shoulder, though, so that he looked directly at Sheev Palpatine. He would not flinch and he would not look away; there was absolutely nothing a Sith could do to him, for he was a being of the light and would burn up any darkness that dared touch him in this moment of shame and pride.

Then it was done and Anakin was pulling back into himself. Obi-Wan was surprised to see that there were tears in his old padawans eyes.

“You are beautiful, Obi-Wan,” Anakin finally said. “And I never want to do that again.”

Obi-Wan desperately wanted to ask what Anakin had seen but just as desperately wanted to pretend that nothing had happened at all. He nodded his understanding and finally raised his shields again, like putting his skin back on.

Obi-Wan couldn’t afford more than a moment to get settled though because, “Now you will need to inspect Chancellor Palpatine.”

Anakin winced.

“He is not a Jedi and that is okay. Very few people are.”

Palpatine sneered at that.

“Some people have more inherent darkness in them and that’s okay. Some people strive to increase the light and decrease the dark, and that is what we want to encourage. Others allow the dark free reign while suppressing the light, and we fight against those. But it is only the Sith who actively try to destroy _all_ light. It is a path to destruction as they tear down everything around them, and their temporary increase in power is paid for by others at a high and permanent cost.”

“I know this.” Anakin rolled his eyes. Obi-Wan didn’t mention that he was saying it for the record, for the people who would review this session, whether or not he and Anakin survived.

“I know you do, Anakin. But I want to make sure you realize that darkness in your friend is not a crime.”

Palpatine was looking grimly amused at this lengthy precursor.

It made him wonder. Anakin wasn’t much of a politician, but Palpatine was. If Obi-Wan was wrong, if Palpatine wasn’t the Sith Master after all, Palpatine certainly knew by now that Obi-Wan _thought_ he was.

But if he was the Sith Master, then he was most definitely making a very interesting high-stakes gamble. It seemed he accepted the challenge that Obi-Wan had presented him with: to reveal themselves truly to Anakin Skywalker and let Anakin make the call on whose lead to follow.

Palpatine grimaced in mild discomfort when Anakin first started and Anakin was frowning almost immediately.

Obi-Wan sat calmly by and watched.

Anakin finally spoke, "this is... Sheev... how could this have happened to you? Obi-Wan, I'm not finding him anywhere. He'd not... there's nothing _but_ darkness!"

Obi-Wan spoke calmly, because he had literally trained for decades to speak calmly in hideously dangerous situations. "This is not an easy thing, Anakin. Search for anything, any hint of light intent, there may still be some way to save him." Obi-Wan strongly suspected that there wasn't. But he needed Anakin to know that too. And there was no way Anakin would trust his word on this, he had to discover it himself.

"No! Sheev, please! Don't say that!"

"Anakin! He hasn't said anything. Don't view thoughts or memories. They are private. Intentions and desires only."

"I was just asking for directions." Anakin said rather sulkily, especially given the situation.

“Search him, Anakin. Search for any glimmer of light that you can reach. Anything at all that can be grown. All it takes is a spark to keep the light alive.”

“Yes, Anakin, dear boy,” Palpatine said, “Search me for any weakness. Anything at all that would diminish my power.”

“He’s, you’re solid, like dried tar when you should be sunlit water.”

“Like tar or like volcanic rock?” Palpatine said. He knew the benefit of a proper metaphor. “Solid and unmovable. I do not obey the Force, the Force obeys me.”

Obi-Wan was silent. He’d had his say, and now Palpatine would have his own. It was rather poetic that the fight for the galaxy was the fight for a young man’s soul.

“I will never obey anyone or anything. Isn’t that what you always said you wanted? You were a slave, and you have found your place of rescue not that much different, haven’t you?” There was the appearance of sympathy on the man’s face and the phrasing implied that Anakin had already told the man as much.

Anakin’s eyes flickered towards Obi-Wan in a rather guilty fashion. Obi-Wan pretended not to notice. In any circumstance less fraught than these, he’d be rolling his eyes. Hadn’t he been telling Anakin that very thing for years?

“You can be free. You don’t need to stand in the harsh glare of an unforgiving light. You know the benefit of comforting shade. You can harden yourself against the Force, and tame it to your will. You can change the very currents of the Force, and draw all other Force-users with it.”

“That,” Anakin stuttered, “that was how they found…” he bit off one word, and then rather awkwardly, “you.”

“Yes...,” Palpatine agreed. “Yes, the Jedi finally thought to actually study that Force they’re always evoking, and they looked for the center, and they found me. I am the center of the Force, here and for all the galaxy.” He practically hissed, “They should be worshipping me.”

Obi-Wan let that statement lie like a dead thing on the floor, because the delusions of the dark were stunning in their idiocy, and that last line was clearly a misstep on Palpatine’s part, pushing too hard. Anakin looked equally appalled but also didn’t verbally respond. Palpatine seemed vaguely disappointed at the lack of response.

Eventually Anakin withdrew from Palpatine, giving up on finding his friend somewhere in there.

Palpatine smiled, somehow thinking that he could still win. "You have seen all that I am, Anakin, am I not powerful?"

Anakin looked pained. “Very powerful, like a volcano. Flame and rock and darkness.” Palpatine actually looked pleased at this description until Anakin continued, “And nothing else.”

"But I have been your friend."

"You killed my friend! You took my friend and smothered him until there's nothing left of him at all!" There were tears running down Anakin's face.

"But I didn't. I've always been this, for as long as you've known me."

"But, but you were my friend!"

And that’s the catch, Obi-Wan knew. Actions versus intent. Friendship versus pandering.

"I am still be your friend." Palpatine smiled. "The Jedi don't want me to be, but I just want to help you get the power you desire."

Anakin actually recoiled, and Obi-Wan was so relieved. They would likely have to fight to the death in the very near future and both he and Anakin could well die a horrible death very soon, but he was so fucking relieved that Anakin would live or die in the light.

"No," Anakin spoke lowly, "there was no friendship in there with you, just the possessive ownership of a slave master."

"But there was power. Power to rule a galaxy. Power to save or condemn anyone I wanted."

"Is it enough power to save you?"

Palpatine snorted. "I hardly need saving!"

"But you do, Sheev. I looked for you everywhere, and all there was was power. There was no freedom any more than there was friendship. You are enslaved to whoever did this to you and I don't know how to save you from them."

"I killed him! I killed Darth Plageious and took his place as the Master of the Sith. I have ultimate power!"

"Like a volcano," Anakin agreed. "Vast amount of power but no control and no decision making. Just destruction." He kept his eyes on Palpatine, with tears still leaking down his cheeks but his voice clear and his eyes focused. Obi-Wan had never been so proud of his student. "You have no freedom. No love. Not even desire, just hunger."

"I have infinite freedom!"

Anakin looked hopelessly at Palpatine, clearly unsure what to do, how to react to this friend of his who was no friend after all. That hopelessness itself was another weakness for the Sith to prey upon, and he shifted tactics to do so. His voice went soft. “He never accepted you as you are, did he? None of the Jedi do. But I do, Anakin. You don’t need to change for me,” Palpatine lied.

Obi-Wan had to bite his tongue not to respond to that. Because seriously? Palpatine was trying to make Anakin fall to darkness: that was a pretty big change for a young man who shone so brightly in the light.

But Palpatine was right that Obi-Wan never accepted Anakin as he was. He was always looking for ways in which Anakin could improve. That was a Jedi Master’s responsibility towards their padawan: to figure out how to take these brilliant, capable children and make them even better. Outside of the Order, Anakin would have been another Padme: ruling a planet by the time he was fourteen. Within the Order, a human like Anakin was expected to have a steep learning curve until he was at least twenty-five. If he was capable at fourteen, what could he be by twenty-five? If he was an engineering prodigy at ten, can he be writing the textbooks on whole new fields of study by the time he retires?

It would have been easy to be lax with Anakin. To say that he as strong _enough_ , skilled _enough_ , knowledgeable _enough_. But that would have done his padawan a disservice.

“Qui-Gon was warmly welcoming to you, but Obi-Wan was always cold and judgemental. You told me that. Remember?”

“You killed Qui-Gon!” Anakin said, after shooting Obi-Wan another nervous glance.

“Yes, I did. And doesn’t that make you mad? Isn’t it right that the death of someone you care about makes you mad?”

“No! Yes! I don’t…”

Obi-Wan wondered if he was seriously the only person here who remembered that they were literally on camera because they were in a public area of the senate building. Far be it from him to stop the Sith Master from confessing, but he worried that maybe the cameras weren’t working after all. He would just have to have faith that Master Fidem ensured that the cameras worked.

“And even now, you can tell that Master Kenobi is judging you, can’t you? Watching you. Watching to see how you react to me, your friend, expecting you to not have any friends.”

“I don’t... he’s not...” Anakin was wavering between the two of them.

This was painful, Obi-Wan thought. It was like Anakin was a youngling again. He’d intended to let Palpatine have his say and allow Anakin to make the choice, to rise or fall on his own. But Anakin had always wanted to be held close even as he struggled for independence.

Obi-Wan let his mask of impassivity fade a bit and smiled at his former padawan. “Your life is a test of who you are. It’s not a pass or fail type of test. It’s a placement test to see where you belong.”

Anakin did not seem to find that as reassuring as Obi-Wan intended it to be, and Palpatine actually grinned with triumph, which was more than a bit disturbing really.

“Yes,” Palpatine agreed, “where you belong. And it’s not in the harsh Jedi Temple that has never truly accepted who you are, is it? How much have you accomplished with my assistance? How much has your wife accomplished with my mentorship? And that was before you knew I could control the Force.”

Anakin looked guilty even as he acknowledged Palpatine’s words.

Palpatine continued to whisper honeyed promises. “What could you accomplish if we worked as partners? You’ve always wanted to return to Tatooine and free the slaves there. If we have an army, any army, either clone or droid, we could do that. I could make you the General of my Army and send you there to free the slaves yourself.” 

It was a ludicrous offer, from Obi-Wan’s perspective. A slave army to go free slaves was bad enough, but to start a civil war between the poorest and least equipped against the richest and best equipped, using an imported army to destabilize society, could only ever have one ultimate result. But Anakin was clearly tempted by the vision that Palpatine offered, blinded by his own desire for that vision to be a reality.

As Palpatine continued trying to tempt Anakin, Obi-Wan wondered how this might mirror a much younger Palpatine’s own fall into darkness. Obi-Wan hadn’t dared reach out to feel anything of Palpatine’s mind on his own and could only take Anakin’s broken descriptions of it on faith. But it sounded like Palpatine was truly a Sith Master at this point: his sense of self so thoroughly tainted as to solidify, defying any attempt at cleansing. He must have been hooked by his own master once upon a time, hooked and manipulated and bound into a single purpose, with no ability to deviate. Darth Bane truly had found a version of immortality in his rule of two: each master found an apprentice-slave and tormented and tortured that poor being into madness and conformity, forcing them into the shape of the master until they so perfectly matched the master that they were able to seamlessly take their place. Generations of tortured slaves making more tortured slaves, and all of them calling it power.  
  
It was horrifying. But part of being a Jedi, being a negotiator, was looking at the horrifying without flinching, and trying to find the points at which events could be changed.  
  
Whoever Sheev Palpatine had once been could not be saved, even though Obi-Wan suspected that he had once been a man not unlike Anakin. That would be in the nature of this legacy of Sith: to recreate the great tragedies and falls, calling them triumphs, over and over again, down through the centuries.  
  
If Obi-Wan is lucky, that chain of grotesque inheritance would break here and now.  
  
The question was, would it break in such a way that set Anakin free, or would it break in such a way that sent Anakin tumbling down into the dark, as the last of the tortured souls bound back through time to Darth Bane?

Obi-Wan was pretty sure he knew the answer, had known the answer as soon as Anakin first flinched from looking directly at Palpatine’s spirit. Anakin still struggled to make the decision, because it was painful to let an attachment tear itself away, but the decision was already made, and Palpatine merely scrabbled desperately to lay a deeper hook in a spirit made of light and wind.

“I would rather die than become anything like what you are.” Anakin said with a mixture of despair and anger, but also with utter certainty. He would not be joining Palpatine in a mad quest for power.

“Then you will die!” And finally, finally, Palpatine physically attacked.

And with a blood red lightsaber, even, as if to ensure that there was no question at all that he was a Sith Master.


	6. Emotion, yet Peace

Obi-Wan hadn't been sure what he’d do if Palpatine hadn't eventually attacked. If he had just stood his ground as the lawfully elected chancellor, who just happened to be a Sith Master. But that would have been the Jedi way: to walk into a dangerous situation using moral authority as the first and best defense. The Sith had no moral authority, desired no moral authority, and didn't even know how to use it.

So Palpatine attacked with a lightsaber red with blood and pain.

The searing blue of Anakin’s lightsaber met it, and for a moment the two men looked at each other the crossed blades. Palpatine’s look of glee was undiminished by what must have been an abrupt change of plans for him. Anakin looked devastated.

Obi-Wan lit his own lightsaber and circled around to right outside of Palpatine’s peripheral vision, forcing Palpatine to break the stand-off.

Anakin might be devastated but he was also determined. He didn’t allow Palpatine to shift his focus to Obi-Wan but attacked in the moment of distraction.

Long drawn-out battles were for training, for defense, and for interrogation; not for an assassination, not for the mercy killing of the creature that had destroyed what Sheev Palpatine might once have been. Assassination of one man, no matter how skilled or powerful, in a small meeting room, outnumbered two to one, was simple.

For all that the Force loved life, that love was often a ruthless type of love that allowed for the aggressive pruning of corruption.

The action itself was abrupt and done with. The results were more permanent.

Obi-Wan used the Force to push Palpatine’s aim off, to protect Anakin. And Anakin drove his lightsaber right through Palpatine’s chest, leaving it there for a long moment. He only withdrew the blade when the deadweight of Palpatine’s body finally started to slice itself open on the blade in its descent to the ground.

Even after Anakin had his breath under control, he still didn’t look away from the dead body of the being he had thought was his friend. He just stood there for a long several minutes, and Obi-Wan let him work out his own thoughts. While the Sith Master was dead, there was much clean-up to be done, and the most immediate was to ensure Anakin was okay, and not bleeding out from wounds of the spirit.

“I…” Anakin started, paused, and then started again, “I can’t be a Jedi, can I?”

“Do you need me to answer that question?” Obi-Wan was genuinely curious. He’d tried to raise Anakin to be independent and to follow the will of the Force rather than the words of any mere sentient being, himself included.

“You’re never kind, are you?” Anakin said almost despairingly.

“Not when kindness would only be another form of cruelty.”

“You’re like the opposite of Sheev, you know that? He was always kind. Kind and helpful. And I’m only now realizing how cruel that was, that he gave me everything I ever asked for, all the support I needed to do any hare-brained idea I came up with. And he was never rule-bound like you are. But in the end, you’re the one who’s free and he was the one who was chained.”

“Sometimes rules can set you free.”

“I really hate all the Jedi koan.”

“I know.”

Anakin finally turned away from the body and made his way to one of the visitors’ chairs where Obi-Wan had already claimed a seat. They sat in silence some more.

“I can’t be a Jedi.” It wasn’t a question this time.

“I know.”

“Did you always know?”

“As Master Yoda says, ‘always changing, the future is.’ You could have been a Jedi. I wouldn’t have given you false hope if it wasn’t possible.”

“But you didn’t think I’d do it.”

Obi-Wan finally let out an amused breath. “I couldn’t figure out who to even make a bet with. I’ll have to buy myself a Correllian ale.”

Anakin found himself laughing. It was brittle but real. “I’ll buy the ale.”

“I’m not a cheap date.”

“Oh, don’t I know it. I’ll buy the ale and you’ll raise a toast to my wedding?”

“Absolutely.” Obi-Wan paused before his next words because he always had trouble talking about emotions, but he’d already been stripped bare once today, so what was one more awkward emotional moment? “I am proud of you, Anakin. I know you think I’m always judging you, you say so often enough, but I’m often just appreciating you. You have grown up into a magnificent person. Padme is lucky to have you.”

Anakin was actually blushing. Obi-Wan wondered what he would do once he was out in the larger civilian universe, independent of the Jedi Temple and supported by the Amidala family.

“Thanks.” Anakin finally muttered. “So, what now?”

“Hmm?” Obi-Wan asked. What Anakin did next would be up to him and his wife.

“What do we do now? I mean, we need to report this to someone, right?”

Except for the immediate future, which wasn’t up to either of them. Obi-Wan shrugged. “Someone will be reviewing the footage by now, if they weren’t simply watching events live. It’s probably better for everyone if we wait for whoever is in charge out there to sort themselves out and come retrieve us.”

“ _WHAT?_ We’re on camera!?!”

Obi-Wan found himself side-eying Anakin. “We are in one of the Supreme Chancellor’s meeting rooms. Of course there’s security footage.”

Anakin looked like he was about to have hysterics, which made it perfect timing for Mace Windu to show up. “Some Force-damned media maven got a hook-up to the feed, too, so it’s streaming on all the news stations. I had to get the building out of lockdown just to tell you two to get a room.”

Obi-Wan ignored the words, just relieved that it was a Jedi rather than a Senatorial Security troop who showed up first.

Anakin did not ignore the words and seemed to be having some sort of fit.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. “I’m not sure why you’re both unhappy with this. I’m frankly just as glad to have the whole thing on record. It relieves me from having to recount the death by lightsaber of the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, as a single witness with a vested interest in the outcome.”

“But! I just! You just! I can’t! Oh god, Padme!”

“Anakin, Palpatine admitted to what he had done, and then he attacked you. A Jedi’s word may hold vast power of persuasion but you are, as we’ve just discussed, not a Jedi, and I imagine I’m about to be in for some thorough review myself. It would be far worse if the only record were that the three of us had entered a secure room and then only the two of us had exited.” Obi-Wan didn’t mention that if the situation had gone slightly differently, it could easily have been only one exiting.

Mace’s grimace said that he was having similar thoughts himself.

Anakin’s look of mortification showed he was still focused on his own situation.

“Chin up, Anakin, you can’t be embarrassed, after all: there is no emotion, there is peace.”

“I hate you.” Anakin muttered, but he also raised his chin with a look that dared anyone to comment on his flushed cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah. Go find a healer and get yourself checked out. Master Windu and I need to figure out what to do next.”

“Thank you, Tani.” Anakin really was feeling grateful to fall back on the old title. Then he scampered out of there like the Sith of old were on his heels, which was a bit disconcerting since he hadn’t been nearly that anxious when dealing with an actual Sith Master.

“So, we were right: he never should have been made a Jedi.”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows at that bit of historical editing, since Mace himself had insisted on Anakin’s promotion to knight for all that he’d protested Anakin’s original acceptance as a padawan. Obi-Wan let it go, though. “And Master Qui-Gon was right as well: he absolutely needed to be trained.”

“From what I’ve seen, what happened here was a test of mastery. And he certainly passed it.” Mace wasn’t arguing so much as probing.

“Being a Jedi is more than skills.” Obi-Wan shrugged. “It’s personality and goals and desires and motivations, too. He has mastery over himself, as any Jedi Knight does. But he likes attachments. Craves them even. To deny them is to deny who he is.”

“We really do need to stick to raising infants.”

“Or open the doors for fully formed adults capable of making fully formed choices.”

“You are quite the heretic, aren’t you?”

“It’s only heresy if the Council doesn’t acknowledge it as proper reform.”

Mace snorted.

“Come on, you’ve given Skywalker enough time to escape my clutches. Let’s get you to a healer too.”

“I’m not injured.” Obi-Wan knew it was a stupid thing to say even as he said it.

“Aren’t you? You were Skywalker’s first attempt to do a deep examination _and_ you had a confrontation with a Sith Master. It can’t have been comfortable.”

“I could do with some rest,” Obi-Wan admitted.

“Under the supervision of a healer,” Mace added.

Obi-Wan shrugged, but let Mace pull him up out of his seat. He contemplated the future for a moment and then thought he might as well take advantage of still being on camera. Having this conversation be both private and public at the same time would be a way for Jedi strategy to be set and publicly seen but in an unofficial capacity.

“So, now what?”

From Mace’s quirked eyebrow, he knew exactly what Obi-Wan was doing and possibly even appreciated it.

“Now, the Jedi spend the next few decades trying to undo the taint to the Force, which will be difficult given that we weren’t even aware that the Force could be tainted like this. The Senate will do their thing. I think it’s become quite clear that we should not have allowed the Order to become so closely tied to government. We follow the will of the Force, not direction from the Senate.”

Obi-Wan stayed silent, paying attention, but not addressing it.

Mace frowned, but acknowledged the pointed silence. “We can’t stop cold, though, not in this turmoil. The next step is that Jedi trained in negotiation and mediation will be made available for government recovery here on Coruscant. The government structure needs to allow for more agility than it currently does. And that means using the current structure to make sweeping changes.”

Both of them grimaced. This was going to be a nightmare.

“Well, it’s not the most overwhelming task you’ve ever given me.” Obi-Wan finally opined, speaking as one of the Jedi trained in negotiation and mediation.

“What could possibly have been more overwhelming than this?”

“Some fifteen years ago, when I was twenty-two, you gave me a recently-freed-from-slavery, nine-year-old child, who had never heard of the Force before and only knew of Jedi from adventure stories, to raise to be a Jedi.”

Mace blinked. “You know, I never quite thought that through. Can I blame the taint in the Force for dropping that on you?”

Obi-Wan ignored that. “I am unbelievably proud of who Anakin has grown up to be. And I am going to take, mmm, 40% of the credit for the results. He may not have grown up to be a Jedi, but he grew up to be an amazing being.”

“Not to mention, the being who finally killed the Sith Master we’ve spent years searching for.”

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. “Not to mention that.”

They walked in companionable silence out of the building, and then in more hunted silence through the crowd of politicians, media, and onlookers who had surrounded the senate building.

Three days later, Mace sought him out again. Obi-Wan had spent the three days reading summaries of the summaries of reports because there was no time to read even the first-level summaries, and certainly no time to take any sort of action. Just time enough for the most basic of triage.

Mace himself would have spent the last three days in much the same manner.

“Do you remember about a decade ago, when you asked me to meditate on how best to restructure the Jedi Order to better integrate the Service Corps with the Temple?” Mace asked.

Obi-Wan had to take a moment to recall it. It had been years ago, but, “yes. I never followed up with you about it, did I?”

“Given that your purpose was to get me out of the way so you could talk to some of the younglings about the dangers of bullying, that doesn’t surprise me.”

Obi-Wan shrugged at that. It was long past and Obi-Wan couldn’t actually think of a single thing that Mace Windu could do in retaliation that Obi-Wan would care about.

“That was when I first started planning to get you on the Jedi Council.”

What? That was genuinely stunning. “What?”

Mace continued to watch him with impassive consideration. “I’ve been concerned that it would come as a surprise to you.”

“What?” Obi-Wan found himself repeating rather helplessly.

“Chancellor Palpatine did influence us in promoting Anakin before his time, but not in placing you on the Council. I’d known for years that as soon as you’d graduated a padawan and officially earned Master rank, you’d be on the Council.”

“But… I’m not…” Obi-Wan stuttered before he cut himself off. He took a deep breath and centered himself once more. “Why?”

“Because there are too few Jedi to confront problems head-on in war, so we must always work by placing ourselves in the exact right place.”

“Yes…?”

“And as a newly promoted Jedi Knight, you found a way to place both a Jedi Council Member and yourself in the exact right place to accomplish your goals.”

“Ah.”

“I was impressed. You arranged a situation where we both won, and put the effort in to make it come out how you wanted.”

“My manipulation of you made you think I would be a good Counselor? That’s… moderately terrifying.”

That earned one of Mace’s rare but blindingly beautiful grins. “That too.” But he continued more seriously, “You haven’t had the easiest time of it, but people who are easy learners are often the worst teachers. Yoda is probably the best example of that: hundreds of years old, the strongest member of the Jedi order, and yet one of the worst teachers. The best teachers are the ones who struggled with a topic and succeeded anyway. They see the problems, understand the struggles, and find the ways around or through them.”

Obi-Wan considered that. He appreciated the implied flattery, but any such compliments made him wonder at the motive. “You’re not here to request my resignation from the Council then.”

That got a look of surprise. “Definitely not.”

“Then why are you telling me this?”

“Because I think it’s something that you need to hear. Especially if you thought I was planning to ask for your resignation.”

“Okay.”

“It is also a precursor to my next topic of conversation.”

“Ah.” Obi-Wan said and earned another quick grin.

“We’re going to do a major assessment of both the Republic governance and our own Order’s structure, looking for the flaws that allowed the Force to be shadowed. It will be a good time to restructure the Order as well.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he believed that. Surely in a time of great change, it was best to keep some points of stability. But Mace might also be right, since it was too easy for people in more settled times to refuse any change.

“Also, since we required Force sensitives from the Outer Rim who could not have been affected by anything on Coruscant for the search grid, I requested assistance from the Service Corps. As a secondary objective, I let them know that if they sent members who were able to represent their Corps in future negotiations, I’d appreciate that as well.”

Obi-Wan was practically holding his breath. “Did it work?”

“We now have enough ranking members of the Service Corps here on Coruscant to form a quorum. It’s the first time that’s happened in four hundred years.”

“It’s been that long?”

“Most of them don’t seem to like Coruscant,” Mace said dryly.

“But they came this time?”

“They are Force sensitive. Even without my hints, they could feel the possibilities.”

“So we can discuss and potentially even implement changes.”

Mace nodded. “And the first step is to open up the Council itself to members of the Service Corps, rather than keeping the Corps under a Council made up of Knights. So, I am here as one Jedi Council member to another, as equals in this, and I would appreciate your support in this shared endeavor.”

“You have it,” Obi-Wan agreed. “And next?”

“Under the current structure, all children with the abilities are taken into the temple and trained to be Knights. There is a sharp division between passing and failing the tests for Knighthood, with those who fail sent to the Service Corps. We need to remove the dichotomy of passing or failing, and instead focus on appropriate placement.”

“If you do that, we’ll lose Knights. Isn’t that the argument for the current process? That a mid-level Knight still does more good for the galaxy at large than a high-level Agriculturist?”

“That’s the argument. And it was meditation on that argument that led to my realization that the Force was shadowed.”

“Oh.”

“And I’m sure in your work with the more wayward younglings in the creche, you’ve heard plenty of Knights and Masters concerned about the dangers of Jedi-trained younglings choosing not to abide by Jedi ethics.”

“Historically, it’s been dangerous to the galaxy at large to have beings with the abilities but without the ethics,” Obi-Wan spoke mildly.

“Skywalker will be an interesting test case of what happens when a being who is fully trained as a Jedi… isn’t one.”

“Other Jedi have left the Order.”

“Most of them in schisms and shrouded by history. Skywalker is here and now. And active. He’ll make news and hopefully make people realize that Force sensitivity, and even use of the Force, is a continuum rather than a binary. Jedi are at one extreme end, but we are not... not _Other_. Too many beings think we are. Both in-temple and out. We must change that perception.”

Obi-Wan thought of how he’d struggled to make Anakin realize there were options outside of being a Jedi Knight, but largely failed. And yet, other younglings from the creche had found the options for themselves. Much to the dismay of various Knights and Masters of the Order.

“It’s not going to be easy.”

“Easy is not the Jedi way.”

“True.” It would not be easy, but it would be important. And he was looking forward to seeing what else Mace had come up with during his meditations on change. Although, “I still have my dependents to find a proper solution for.”

“This will also be an opportunity for you to speak more with the representatives of the Service Corps. I expect there are opportunities for them there.”

“That’s a good point.” The Corps were always seeking more workers, although Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what requirements they had. He would find out.

“How is it going with them?”

Obi-Wan had to laugh at that, because the answer was, “Disturbingly smoothly.”

“How so?”

“Two hundred thousand dispossessed refugees with questionable legal rights, and they are all, each and every one of them, intelligent, educated, patient, and inclined towards organizing themselves into a military structure and hierarchy. I expect that in six weeks they’ll have taken over the entire refugee camp and organized it into peak efficiency. My current plan is to let them do so. And then see if any of them want a permanent staff position, either there or at another refugee camp.”

“You like them?”

“I think they were specifically created to be useful to Jedi, and that it is disturbing how successful their creators were. I’m not sure if that means we should work with them or should not.”

“You’re doing the only thing you can in this instance: giving them a choice and enough space to make sure they know what they’re choosing.”

Obi-Wan nodded his acceptance of that.

There was a special kind of agony to fixing problems that he was not personally responsible for and yet still represented the organizational cause of. He spent his days alternating between trying to create official lives for the clones and trying to create a more equitable relationship between the Jedi Temple and the Jedi Corps.

He meditated a lot to release emotions of anger and guilt, defensiveness and pride.

He was just as glad that Anakin had disappeared, allowing Obi-Wan a reprieve from transitioning his own former padawan to civilian status. This was another failure that wasn’t precisely his fault and yet was still his responsibility. From the reports, Anakin was working with his hacker group to finally address the Separatist droid army situation. That was a difficult but straight-forward mission to disarm a clearly identified enemy, and Obi-Wan was just a little bit jealous of it, as he sat in his own Council meetings.

He released the jealousy to the Force. He would not allow that emotion, he would have peace instead.

It was another ten days before Anakin sought him out.

And by sought him out, he meant Anakin barged into his rooms, declaring, “The guards didn’t want to let me in, but apparently I’m still technically a Jedi so I have the right to come into the Temple.”

Obi-wan set down his latest report and leaned back in his chair. “Generally, a Jedi who decides to leave the order submits their own paperwork for that. It’s only when a member is expelled that the Council submits it.”

“Huh. And they didn’t want to expel me?”

“I didn’t want to expel you. It’s your choice, and you need to formalize it.”

“So, I could just not submit the paperwork?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “No, Anakin. If you refuse to submit the paperwork, _then_ I’ll expel you for being a nuisance and breaking the rules.”

“Yeah, fair enough.” And then he fell into silence, standing awkwardly before him. Sometimes Anakin really was a ridiculous being.

“How are you doing? I assume you’re staying in Padme’s quarters?”

“Yeah,” Anakin leapt on the offered topic of conversation. “At least when I’m not at the university working on hacking the Separatist droids. She’s got a nice space that I’ve never fully explored. But we’ve been talking about our future plans since we’ve both pretty much lost our careers. The election for the replacement senator is scheduled for three weeks from now. Upper-class Naboo have some pretty prescriptive ideas of what married couples can and cannot do. Padme and I had been planning on ignoring them entirely, but you once told me it was stupid to think some other culture had no reasons for their actions.”

Obi-Wan was sure he looked dubious of that.

“Okay, you probably said something along the lines of ‘it is the height of hubris to think that just because you don’t see a reason that there is no reason’, but what you meant was that it was stupid.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. He wasn’t sure he agreed with that particular translation since there were different connotations between stupidity and excessive pride, but it was close enough, he supposed.

“Aarrgg.” Anakin clutched his hair in his fists. “I know that look! I know there are different connotations! That’s not the point here. The point is that Padme and I decided that we’d go to Naboo and see if we could live the traditional life of a Naboobian married couple!”

“Ah. And do you think you’ll be able to?”

Anakin relaxed. “I think it’s worth a try. It will be interesting, and we might as well try it before rejecting it entirely.”

“That’s very wise of you.”

“I give us half a year, maximum, before we’re tearing into each other out of sheer boredom, and Padme heads back out to take over governments or at least save them. Whatever we do, I’ll be continuing with my university droid group, of course. But I might do something as a pilot if Padme is interested in traveling. Or maybe start a Jedi Arts Center like Master Yalawari. I bet that would give the Jedi Council a conniption fit.”

Obi-Wan considered the conversations he’d had with Mace and said, “I’m not sure it would, actually.”

“Oh?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Things are uncertain on the Council right now, as we seek direction from the Force. New possibilities are being considered.”

“That told me pretty much nothing.”

Obi-Wan shrugged again, but with a smile this time. But then gave in, at least a little. “In half a year’s time, if you find yourself bored and looking for direction, contact me and I might have some options for you.”

“Nothing you can tell me now?”

“I have two hundred thousand dependents to get situated first. We’ve already started figuring out potential career paths for them.”

“So I’m not a single child anymore.”

“What?”

“This is why the Council has the one-master-one-padawan rule, isn’t it? You’ve got other kids now taking up your focus. I think I’m jealous.”

“What?” Obi-Wan repeated. He wasn’t even entirely sure that Anakin was joking. “What?”

“Hmm.” Anakin was definitely teasing him, though.

But then even the mock teasing went away. “So, I should call you in half a year?”

“If you are bored and looking for direction.”

“What about before then? What about if it’s not to talk about work?”

“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“You told me once that there were three options for keeping attachment: leaving the Order, bringing them into the Order, or refusing to acknowledge the attachment. And you chose the third one.”

“Yes.”

“What about now?”

“What _about_ now?”

“What about _me?_ ”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Anakin.”

“I want you to say that you’ll still be, be my friend, my brother, even when I go to live with my wife and future children. Tell me there’s another option: you don’t have to leave, I don’t have to stay, and we can still be connected.”

Obi-Wan was silent for a long moment. “I don’t think there is.”

“No! There has to be. You raised me since I was nine years old. You cannot just walk away from this. From us.”

“You did. Why can’t I?”

“I never did. I was being torn in two, but I never turned my back on you.”

“You should have.”

“No, I shouldn’t have! And you shouldn’t either! So tell me, Negotiator, tell me another option!”

“Tell me you’ll never be threatened by one of my enemies, because that’s what will happen if they see an attachment. Tell me you’ll never fall and become one of them either. Tell me I never have to worry about protecting you _or_ killing you. Because that’s why we don’t have attachments. I would cut you out of my life entirely, publicly renounce you and never see your face or hear your voice again, rather than kill you or let you die.”

“I swear.”

“What?”

“I swear. I will never, _never_ be a weakness, and I will never be an enemy.”

“You can’t swear that.”

“I can, and I do. I admit I haven’t kept all of my oaths to the Order, but this oath to you I will. I _will_ , Obi-Wan. I’ll train every day for the rest of my life, and I’ll die an old man in bed, surrounded by the best bodyguards money can buy. As long as you are by my bedside seeing me off.”

“Given our respective ages and future lifestyles, you’ll likely outlive me.” Obi-Wan realized as soon as he said it that it was the wrong thing, but he didn’t deal well with his own emotions.

Anakin growled. “I _know_ that. But stay and be my brother, be an uncle to my children. Come home to my home sometimes between missions.”

“Your children, Anakin… you can’t… I can’t… your children can’t be harmed due to me.”

“Given that I fully expect the best bodyguards that money can buy will be _your_ children, I don’t think you get to make that argument.”

“The clones are not my children.”

“You’re married to their progenitor, and you defied the Council and the Senate both in order to protect them. Just accept that they’re your children and move on.”

“I can’t just move on, it’s a matter of attachment.”

“Exactly. You are attached to every living being, but especially the clones, and especially me, too. And you can be, because we can protect ourselves.”

“That’s not how being impartial works.”

“It’s how you’ve stayed in contact with Duchess Satine for decades now.”

“... Yes.”

“Then it’s how staying in contact with me will work too,” Anakin stated with the type of arrogance that meant he was trying to will his statements into truth.

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, who had been such a central figure in his entire adult life and gave in with a sigh. “Yes, that is how it will work.”

“Good,” Anakin nodded with military brusqueness. “Then I’ll contact you in a couple of weeks, when things have settled more. And I expect you to show up for the annual Naboobian Family Day.” Then he was out the door, not leaving Obi-Wan any time to object.

It was probably a good thing, too, Obi-Wan thought, because it would have been difficult to do so.

Rather than return to the reports he’d been reading, he took a walk. He’d explored the whole temple as a youngling, again as a padawan, and again as Anakin’s Tani. Each time, it was like exploring the temple anew, seeing new things and having new perspectives on old things. Small nooks transformed from places he’d gotten lost, to places he could hide, to places others could hide from him. Long hallways went from uncertain domain to comfortable and memory-filled.

The Temple was his home.

More than that, it was a home for the Force. The Force was everywhere and always with him, but here in the Temple, it was revered and glorified.

He found himself in one of the older and more central meditation rooms, around which the rest of the temple had expanded over the millennia. It had a grass floor that was original to Coruscant and a handful of trees reaching up to the skylight above. He reached out to the Force to swirl the air around, causing the leaves in the trees to ruffle in the breeze. Opening himself up to the Force, he could feel the trees around him, and the Jedi of the Temple around them, and the people of Coruscant around them, and the whole galaxy circling around even that.

Eventually all children, and adults too, must choose and then choose again, where their home is. Anakin had chosen to make Padme his home. Obi-Wan could understand the temptation to turn to a person. He had been tempted himself by the same choice, to turn to Satine. And yet, it was a simple dream in comparison to his deep-rooted desire to live always with and for the Force, to feel the whole galaxy rotating around him.

It wasn’t rotating around him, of course. He had simply chosen to place himself in the spot around which the galaxy rotated.  

For all the frustrations of bureaucracy, the dangers of conflict, the lure of Mandalore, and the absurdity of a marriage contract with a bounty hunter, Anakin on Naboo and the clones in their refugee camps, all pushing and pulling him in so many directions... he was centered here and now.

Here and now he was with the Force and the Force was with him.


	7. Extras and Deleted Scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These are un-beta'd scenes and perspectives that never made it into the actual story but that I liked too much to just delete.

* * *

**Extra #1: set after Chapter 6**

* * *

 

“Thank you for seeing me, Master Kenobi.”

“Of course, Senator Amidala. How can I be of assistance?”

“I wanted to give you my personal apology. I am sorry for lying to you. For contributing to a betrayal.”

“Are you sorry for your actions?”

“No. Not for my actions. I do not regret them and I would not undo them, but I am still sorry for their negative impact on you. I had to choose between two right things, and I chose to love Anakin.”

“Then all is forgiven. Of all the ways a padawan can betray the Jedi Order, this was the kindest.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I do have another reason for approaching you.”

“I expected as much.” Obi-Wan didn’t bother resisting that particularly dry remark.

“I will not be giving up any children of mine to the Jedi Order.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“But…” Padme trailed off.

Obi-Wan remained silent, waiting for her to collect her thoughts.

“In the recording from that day, you mentioned that the Jedi Order should accept adult students. Anakin’s children will almost certainly be strong in the force. If, as adults, one of our children wants to join the order, will you give them a chance?”

Obi-Wan hadn’t expected that. After a pause, he said, “I will consider it.”

“Thank you.” 

 

* * *

**Anakin’s Perspective #1: set during Chapter 5**

* * *

It was amazing to search Obi-Wan with the Force. For Obi-Wan to lower his shields and allow Anakin to gaze upon him fully. Because Obi-Wan was beautiful. He shown with the clear harsh light of the Force, an almost seering lightness that allowed nothing to hide or escape notice. And it wasn’t judging it was merely revealing.

But there were also smudged parts of the light that weren’t dark, were nothing like darkness, but were still tainted light, a warm light that enveloped one and gave comfort.

And there was darkness and those spots made Anakin want to cry because they shouldn’t be there. Hard knots of darkness that clenched at his inspection and so clearly hurt his master. But even as he studied them, and realized that they grew with the shame that Obi-Wan felt at them being seen, he could see Obi-Wan intentionally relaxing into them, like breathing into a stretch or leaning into a fire, and small wisps of darkness broke off and were seared into nothingness in the light.

The darkness was there, had the potential to grow and would probably never be gone entirely, but they were small and getting smaller.

He realized he’d closed his eyes while doing this. When he opened his eyes he was staring right into Obi-Wan’s own eyes. Looking back at him and through him. It was deeply uncomfortable.

It was like his master was naked in front of him, saying “this is who I am” and just no.

He pulled back his senses and felt Obi-Wan raise his own mental barriers again, and he’d never felt so happy for the formality and reserve of his tani. He was beyond impressed by what he had seen, it was beautiful beyond words, but he never wanted to see it again.

“You are beautiful, Obi-Wan,” Anakin finally said, just to break the tension that seemed to only exist on his side. “And I never want to do that again.”

 

* * *

**Anakin’s Perspective #2**

* * *

Proposing to Padme had been his reward to himself when he’d made Jedi Knight.

He’d just been so angry with Obi-Wan at trying to stand in the way of his knighting. Even Palpatine who usually said he didn’t want to contradict the Jedi had voiced his concern at that. Some Jedi needed to focus entirely on their tasks, but Anakin was capable of having a home life too and not letting it be a distraction. He and Padme were both capable of that.

So he’d proposed and she’d said yes! And now they had each other and it was wonderful!

He had a place to come home to where he was always welcome.

And it kind of sucked that Obi-Wan still didn’t know because he wanted to show off to Obi-Wan, to show him that he could have this and be this and that Padme, a Senator of the Galactic Republic saw enough value in him to tie her life to his.

But as much as he wanted to show off to Obi-Wan, he also didn’t want to deal with Obi-Wan’s disapproval, because of course Obi-Wan would disapprove of Anakin breaking the rules. Even if Obi-Wan would support him and help him deal with the repercussions, he’d still disapprove.

Padme didn’t understand.

A few months ago, when he’d been admittedly mopping about in her apartment, she’d finally demanded an answer. “Why won't you tell Master Kenobi? You can't believe he'd do anything to harm you.”

“He'd tell me, 'I told you so', okay?”

Padme's jaw had dropped. She taken a moment to look around find something she could throw at him. Luckily there was a pillow right there that she could smack him in the face with.

"Go tell him and let him say all the "I told you so"s that he wants to!"

She grabbed another pillow to thwap him with and the whole conversation quickly devolved into a pillow fight. By the end they were both gasping for breath between laughter and the tension was thoroughly broken. She thought back to what he’d said, and “honestly, I can’t imagine Master Kenobi actually saying anything as petty as “I told you so.”

Anakin groaned and grabbed the pillow again, this time to cover his own face in an vain attempt to smother himself. “I know! He’d never be that petty. Instead, he’ll just make that little sigh he does when things are finally meeting his expectations, good or bad. And that’s worse because I can’t even call him on it, because then he looks at me all confused and amused and asks if I’m seriously trying to tell him not to breath?”

Padme grinned up at the ceiling. “That is definitely more like him.”

“But what it _means_ is him saying he told me so!”

 

* * *

**Anakin’s Perspective #3**

* * *

 

Anakin looked around at the appalled faces of the senators and felt vindicated. This! This is what he’d been dealing with for the last thirteen years! He’d told them about Obi-Wan. This was the person with the impossible standards! People kept on telling Anakin that he was better and stronger and everything than Obi-Wan just because of his midichlorian count. Obi-Wan himself seemed to think so, and it drove Anakin crazy because clearly no one was seeing what Anakin was seeing, that Obi-Wan had set impossible standards and was somehow managing to live up to them himself even though they were completely insane!

Everyone seemed to take Anakin’s reports for whining or maybe just complaining about a strict teacher rather than understanding that Obi-Wan was the type of person to adopt two hundred thousand clones and make himself personally responsible for their well-being. Well, jokes on them because Anakin had by-the-Force told them so!

It was such a relief too.

Like a massive weight had been lifted from him. Obi-Wan was looking at other people with his watchful judging eyes and other people were finally looking at Obi-Wan with the same kind of awed, respectful dismay as Anakin did.

 

* * *

**Anakin’s Perspective #4**

* * *

 

The conversation had gone on from there to talk more about how important non-Jedi were. Anakin had never liked it when Obi-Wan did that because it always felt like Obi-Wan wanted Anakin to be something other than a Jedi. But the first part of the conversation had stuck, a reminder that for all of Obi-Wan’s soft courtesy, he was utterly ruthless. He wouldn’t have argued with the Jedi Council if he didn’t have a way to win the argument.

Anakin had trained with Obi-Wan Kenobi for more than thirteen years, and he still wasn't sure what to make of him. He loved Obi-Wan, he really did, but he also felt like nothing he did was quite enough.

Qui-Gon had felt so warm and open. Obi-Wan was colder and always watching, always judging. It wasn’t like the judging him harshly or punishing him or anything like that, but just always watching, like his whole damned life was a test. And when he’d confronted Tani Obi-Wan about that, his Tani had merely blinked back at him and said, “Your life is a test of who you are. It is not a test you can fail, merely a test to see who you are.”

Which he seemed to think was supposed to be reassuring when it really, really wasn’t.

But even the silent judgement was better than the times when it felt like Obi-Wan wasn't even there, even when he was. It was eerie.

Anakin wanted Obi-Wan’s approval and he knew, he knew because Obi-Wan had told him so, that he should rely on the Force for that, because it was the only place where such unconditional acceptance could be relied upon. And it had taken him way too long to realize what that said about Obi-Wan’s own childhood, especially since Obi-Wan always did give him acceptance.

It wasn’t like Obi-Wan didn’t give him direction, compliments and corrections both, but it also felt like he was constantly being judged. When they were working together as partners, it was wonderful. Anakin loved that, loved having Obi-Wan rely on him, loved being able to meet Obi-Wan’s expectations and be someone that Obi-Wan could rely on.

But it never lasted. It was never enough. 

 

* * *

**Anakin’s Perspective #5**

* * *

It was a whirlwind tour of the Kamino facility, and he had a headache from using the Force to supplement his own memory, but it was actually pretty fun to meet them all and, in turn, be their first experience meeting a Jedi. He had thought that he probably wouldn’t get as many signatures as Obi-Wan since he wasn’t willing to set it up as a bureaucratic process. If he was going to meet them, he was going to actually meet them. Especially since there wasn’t a hope in hell of getting them all anyway. A good first meeting with a thousand clones was still better than a crappy one with three times that number.

It wasn’t until he was headed back to Coruscant that he checked the list and realized that he was absolutely going to win the bet with Obi-Wan since Obi-Wan had only gotten names from their original regiment and had apparently gone off to do something entirely else in the meantime.

Anakin growled a bit to himself, composed a rant in head about honesty and partnership for the next time he saw Obi-Wan even though he’d probably never give it.

Although he did see that Obi-Wan had accessed the files that Anakin had uploaded at least. He hoped Obi-Wan got a headache too from trying to memorize them.

He probably wouldn’t though, given how often he’d seen his master use the technique in the past.

  

* * *

 

**Anakin’s Perspective #6**

* * *

Anakin sent out his gratitude to the force since Mace would certainly not appreciate it and the force had clearly stood by Anakin as it always did. Revealing his marriage was always going to be a big deal unless it got completely overshadowed by an even bigger mess. And it sounded like there were three distinct matters on hand. He didn’t precisely want to thank the Force for the war, but it had certainly helped him personally.

The council meeting after that got quieter and more focused and it was a testament to what they were that they could bring such concentration to bear on the issues at hand.

It was a grueling five hour session that Anakin wasn’t even tempted to try to slip out of even if he was being studiously ignored.

The Clones they left to Obi-Wan, agreeing that he was within his rights to claim them under his protection. Or at least, Anakin thought to himself, that publicly arguing that Obi-Wan did not have the right to protect a large number of sentients would be hideously embarrassing for the Order -- significantly more embarrassing than just going with it and claiming that it was the Jedi way. Informing the Senate of that decision they also left to Obi-Wan. They seemed to think that would be a punishment for Obi-Wan. Anakin thought it was more likely going to become a painful learning experience for the Senate.

Without the clones as a ready made army, the Jedi were simply too few to fight the war, and would bow out entirely. That too, would fall on Obi-Wan to inform the Senate.

Anakin was beginning to wonder exactly how big the blast radius was going to be for the next Senatorial gathering.

Since the temple was not going to be going to war, then the Jedi Knights currently ready to join the fight were available instead to run a massive search pattern for the source of the darkness the councilors had found. The Jedi Knights from across the galaxy would be summoned home with instructions to meditate at intervals on the clarity of the force.

“It is the way of the Jedi,” Master Eeth Koth said, “not to use brute force of an army but rather the delicate touch of knowing exactly where to stand to shift the galaxy. If there is a single source of darkness, then that is where we must stand.”

Anakin was seriously not sure if Koth was being a raging hypocrite or merely attempting to be ironic in his abrupt about-face on how to deal with the war effort.

One benefit of being thoroughly out of all favor with the Jedi Council, though, was that they weren’t giving him any missions at all, so he was free to accompany Obi-Wan on his confrontation with the Senate.

He’d sent Padme a quick message to expect fireworks along with a longer apology about outing their relationship to the Jedi Council, but hadn’t explained any further. He wasn’t even sure how to explain the recent turn of events.


End file.
